


Wild Angels

by Scarlet_Cross



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Fluff, Gen, Kidnapping, M/M, Teen Winchesters, alternative universe, demons are the rulers, sam and dean aren't hunters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-14
Updated: 2015-12-23
Packaged: 2018-03-01 12:16:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 31,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2772668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scarlet_Cross/pseuds/Scarlet_Cross
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the last great war between humans and demons the human race was decimated. They lost the war and their numbers were scattered and sparse across the globe. Then began the Golden Age of Demons. All the human populations ruled by demonic dictators, yet still life goes one. The Winchester family live in a solitary mountain town high in the Rockies. They make their living by hunting animals for their pelts and meat, but everything changes on the day they stumble across the most dangerous of all monsters: Angels.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Meenting

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Tamed](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/87548) by nileflood. 



> Okay, so I've written quite away a head in this fic but I'm still not done with it. I'll try to ration my posts so that way you never have to go too long without an up date.

The forest was deadly quiet this early in the morning. The sun was just peaking over the horizon, leaving the Earth to retain the night's cool temperature for now. Nocturnal animals were retiring for the day and most of the birds were still sleeping, not yet singing their songs. Nothing was loitering in the brush of the woods, save for a duo of hunters making their morning rounds.

It was the height dry season reducing the stream that cut through the woods to muddy pools every few yards. These puddles made for a perfect place for Sam and Dean to set snares and other traps for animals coming to drink. The two young hunters crept through the thickets with and impressive velvet tread. The early hour of the morning left Sam's face dopy with sleep. He had only just begun to make rounds with his brother a few weeks ago when their father had gone to work at the town's small steel works. Opposite to Sam, Dean was wide awake. Their father had been taking him out hunting since he was Sammy's age; eight, turning nine in a few months.

A loud crack resonated through the forest when Sam stepped on a dry branch. Dean shot him a look of annoyance. His kid brother had been playing in the woods surrounding their village since he could walk, but stealth was a concept he was still mastering. Despite the noise there was no flurry of motion or rasp of crunching leaves to indicate any game had been scared off. The brothers silently sighed in the relief of knowing the hunt was still on.

The two approached their first snare seeing it was empty, but had been triggered. The vine used to make it was split, meaning what the trap had caught was much too heavy and strong to hold on to it. Dean sighed again as he knelt down to reset the trap. Sam, mean while, stayed standing and with sleep heavy eyes and watched Dean's back. He was armed with a splintering, homemade bow and arrow. He was a pretty lousy shot, but still better than Dean. Their mother was the best marksman in the family, but not even that saved her from the dangers these woods could hold. Aside from wolves, mountain cats, and the occasional bear these alpine woods held, there were also rough and brutal supernatural creatures lurking.

With a barely audible grunt Dean hoisted himself up and pair continued to follow the creek to their next trap. This one, unlike the first, was fruitful. A rather large, tan rabbit stood with beady eyes next to the edge of a murky puddle. Breakfast. Dean thought, licking his lips, as he approached the trapped animal. It attempted to scurry towards a craggly bush trying to escape but the vine looped around its back foot stopped it. Dean bent down, gently grabbing the animal on its torso; it squirmed and writhed trying to flee. He then latched a hand firmly to its head he whipped it around on one fluid motion. The small creature's neck breaking sounded in a tiny chime of fractured bones. The animal fell still and dead in Dean's hands.

Dean stood and handed the rabbit to Sam who silently tucked it into his belt without lifting his head. Sam knew well that the rabbits, birds, and deer Dean killed made up most of their food and provided a source of income, but nothing seemed to be able to justify the quiet chorus of bones and the loud scream of a life abruptly ended.

The sun slowly climbed up the sky as the hunters went from one trap to the next reaping their fill. By the time they reached their final trap the sun's position signaled they had been out for about almost two hours. The boys had acquired two more rabbits and a dove Sam had shot from a tree. Pleased with their haul the two sauntered up the hill to their last stop of the day more carless than earlier. They let their feet drop regularly on the moist dirt causing the mud to create light smacks and didn't bother avoiding twigs and freely snapped them with their thick boots. Sam had even begun to laugh at a quirky face Dean made when the panicked beats of large wings pounded the air from on top of the hill.

Sam immediately when back into stealth mode, quickly advancing up the hill. Dean on the other hand raced up the hill, not caring at the noise he made. Dean knew that trap was made especially for larger animals, like deer or turkey. It wasn't a simple snare like most of the other traps; it was a weighted net, camouflaged into the tree branches above the small pond it was placed by. There was a pressure plate on the ground that only released the net when something over twenty-five pounds stepped on it. The animal was effetely trapped under the net, but by the sound of struggle he heard, whatever bird was under there might be strong enough to break out.

Dean reached the crest of the hill metaphorically breathless, but what he saw shocked him so much he actually stopped breathing for a moment. Hunched on the ground, clad in a ripped pair of jeans was a boy about his age. But he had wings attached to his shoulder blades. Big, feathery, black wings that were sprawled out under the net beating endlessly trying to free himself. Above him, free from the hunter's trap, was another winged man. He looked to be four or five years older than his trapped companion and his wings were a tawny brow and peppered with black spots. His long, dark brown hair fell into his face as he knelt into the mud, further dirtying his shredded black pants, and tried to calm his companion.

At this point Sam arrived next to Dean gasping and sputtering for breath. The sudden clamor of breath caught the free man's attention. He instantly stood and thrust his wings out to their full span; from tip to tip they're span was easily fifteen feet. The man's face was contorted in anger and his almond eyes were petrifying.

"Go!" He shouted in a deep voice.

That simple word was enough for Sam. He let out a sob as frightened tears welled in his eyes. He clung to Dean's arm and quickly hid behind him, sobs still audible.

Dean froze at Sam reaction. He looked from the winged man to the trapped winged boy. He swallowed deeply, "I… I can… I can help." He squeaked out. The man continued to leer at the boys. Dean wasn't sure the man understood, maybe he didn't know more than a handful English words. Dean licked his lips, "It's my trap, I can… I can free him." The man folded his wings loosely against his back and folded his arms across his chest. Dean took this a sign the man understood, though he looked no less menacing. Dean slowly pulled his homemade hunting knife out of his belt and held it in front of him. The man's wings flew out again as he took a step toward Sam and Dean. "It's to help!" Dean cried taking a step back. "To… free him."

The man once again put his arms and wings at rest, still looking hatefully at Dean, and stepped to the side. Dean once again saw the trapped boy and slowly approached him. Sam still hung onto Dean's back until halfway to the boy the winged man snatched Sammy away from Dean. Dean jerked around, mentally smacking himself for turning his back on the man. The man held Sam with one arm loosely around his neck and the other around his waist.

"You hurt my brother," The man threatened, "I'll hurt yours."

Dean drew in a shaky breath before turning around the face the boy again. He closed the remaining gap listening to Sam's quiet whimpers and imagining the tears he knew was accompanying them. When he reached the net he, with painstaking caution and care, began to cut at one of the rope ends tied to a weight. It was extremely difficult due to the fact the boy kept moving and jostling the ropes. Granted, he wasn't flailing his wings like before, but he kept scooting away from Dean and trying to stand up. When he finished with that rope, he moved to the one to its right and continued to saw through ropes until he had three of the six undone. Dean grabbed the rope end he had just finished on and stood up with it.

The boy seeing finally that there was an escape, bolted through the hole Dean had created. The man released Sam as soon as his brother was free. The two sprinted towards the safety of trees together. The man disappeared without hesitation, but Dean could swear he saw the younger one pause for just a second. He looked over his shoulder, his deep blue eyes locking on Dean before running after his brother. Dean sank to his knees as he watched the black wings and messy black hair of the boy retreated into the depths of the forest. Dean crawled over to Sam who was curled up in the mud crying. Dean wrapped his arm around him and pulled him into his chest, feeling Sam's racking sobs resonate through his own body. Dean noticed a handful of black feathers scattered under the net as he thought to himself.

I just saved an angel.


	2. A Birthday

Gradually the days turned into weeks, weeks to months, and months to years. The Winchesters never saw the angel pair again. Dean had made a few attempts to seek them out but this proved difficult since Sam was mortified by the thought of running into them. Dean also could not look with his father; the boys agreed to never tell their father about the creatures they witnessed. Angels were rare and highly valuable, but neither of the boys could bear the thought of such a beautiful creature trapped in a cage, alone with they're wings beating in desperate escape attempt. Their father John was a good man, but he was relentlessly concerned about money. The small family had enough to squeeze by, but he wanted more for his boys then just a petty peasant life.

Dean laid in the bed he and Sam shared with the midmorning sun streaming through the thin blinds covering his window. Sam was asleep next to him, snoring softly; John was also sleeping upstairs. It was Thursday, John's day off from the steel works and the boys break day as well. The whole house was peaceful and dopy in the early morning. Dean could hear the trees sway softly in the gale force wind through the thinning walls of his house, as he absently rubbed a black feather with his right hand. After they had freed the boy, and Sam had collected himself, the two had set on the task of collecting all the loose feathers.

"They're expensive," Dean explained to Sam. "We can sell them to an occult shop and make extra money."

The two ended up finding twelve black feathers and two that were the brown and black color of the elder brother's wings. The boys sold the feathers to an old mage that ran a second class occult shop on the fringe of the forest. Dean figured he could have gotten more if he had gone to a better regarded store in the middle of town, but the old woman asked the boys no questions as to where they got the feathers. She simply examined them making sure they were real and offered the boys thirty coins in exchange for all of the feathers. Dean was thrilled and jumped at the offer. The boys had made a weeks' worth of the father's wages in one morning.

John was delighted with the boy's money as well, buying himself a new pair of boots he desperately needed and ever growing Dean new pants that actually covered his ankles. John also took the liberty for getting Sam, a wild apple at the market so he didn't feel excluded. Sam was elated since fruit was rare in their village.

But here Dean was, lying in bed on his fifteenth birthday rubbing an expensive angel feather not even Sammy knew he had. Dean had found it during one of his rare trips into the woods alone. It was his father's rule that neither of the boys were to go out there alone. They had to be with him, another adult, or at the very least each other. But Dean chose to defy that rule a week after John had spent him and Sam's extra cash.

Late in the night, hours after the sun had set Dean hiked through the woods with nothing but a small pack on his shoulders and his hunting knife. He wondered in the semidarkness of a half-moon night until he reached the hill top where he and Sam had seen the angels. He slung the pack off his shoulders and produced his father's old boots, his out grown pants and one of Sammy's thread bear canvas satchels he no longer used. Dean arranged the gifts neatly on the ground, pulling a clump of dry leaves together so they wouldn't sit on the muddy earth. He put the boots down first then placed the folded trousers on top of them and topping the pile with the canvas bag. Dean stared at his ragtag pile of gifts and wondered for a moment why he was ever offering them. He thought about how poor his family was and how he was just giving away items they could sell or reuse, but the memory of trapped boy pushed all those thoughts away. The could see, looking back, in agonizing detail how thin the boy was, how deep the bags under his eyes were, even his older brother didn't look so fierce any more. In Dean's replayed memories he was about to see past the terror he felt and truly see the pair was struggling.

I'm leaving these, Dean had thought, because they need them even more than I do.

The next morning when Sam and Dean were making their rounds Dean noticed something had taken all his gifts, except his father's shoes. He trotted over and picked up the shoes recognizing something had taken the time to remove the laces. Dean smiled knowing it couldn't have been an animal that took the laces. He looked inside one of the shoes to see a long, black feather like the ones had and Sam had collected. But this one was different, it was much bigger and not broken missing pieces like it was ripped out in frenzy. Dean wondered for an awestruck moment if maybe the angel had plucked the feather out on purpose to leave for Dean.

"Dean? Sam?" The soft voice of their father called from behind the curtain that separated their room from the living room.

Snapping out of his reverie Dean shoved the feather into his small night stand before replying. "Yeah, Dad?" He tried to make his voice sound dopy with sleep like he had just woken up.

His dad peaked his head through the curtain, "Good morning, and happy birthday. Why don't you wake Sam up, I've got a surprise for you."

Dean nodded before his father left, heading in the direction of the kitchen. Dean roughly elbowed Sam in the shoulder, "Get up ya' moose," Dean chided playfully.

Sam grunted before flopping onto his side putting his back to his brother. Dean pulled Sam's pillow out from under him and smacked his brother's head with it, creating a muffled slap of the canvas pillow meeting Sam's cheek. Sam made a high pitched throaty squeal before blindly throwing out an arm looking to smack Dean. Dean rolled off the bed to escape Sam and laughed as Sam still tried to attack him.

Dean stood from his tumble and watched Sam wiggle around the bed with his awkward child's body. Sam was just beginning to go through the phases of adulthood. His hands and feet were becoming larger than the rest of his body making him clumsy. Dean though, was already half way through with his changes. He was almost as tall as his father and a good deal of his muscle mass had arrived giving him the toned body of an active hunter. This face had lost most of its childish roundness and he could shave light stubble off his face with his father's razor if he wanted.

Sam finally opened his eyes by the time Dean had slipped on his jeans and walked into the kitchen. It was small, just like every other room in their house, but it was enough to get by. Dean sat at a splintering kitchen table with chairs he had helped make while John cooked over a small wood burning stove. The smell of the burning wood had always been Dean's favorite part of cooking, aside from actually eating the food. This morning John was making leftover rabbit stew with a slice of bread and a glass of goat's milk.

"Happy birthday, big boy." John said as he placed Dean's food in front of him. "I got you something." He pulled out a knife from his inner jacket pocket.

Dean's eyes widened, it wasn't just a homemade blade of steel that broke at a shape angle and deer's antler handle like the one he had now; this was a real, professionally made knife. Dean carefully took the blade from his father's hand, it had a foraged steel blade, wicked shape on both sides though the inside edge had teeth for sawing; it was set into a polished bone handle. He traced his fingers over a handful of runes carved into the center of the steel. He had no idea what they were but they shouldn't interfere with the knife's use.

"Impressive," Sam gaped, eyes wide as he walked into the kitchen.

John smiled at his boys reactions, "Well it's Dean's big birthday so I figured he needed a big present to protect him out there all alone in the woods."

John had decided (after constant nagging from Dean when he was thirteen) that when the boys turned fifteen it marked the day they could venture out into the woods alone. The boys knew part of this was due to the fact that at fifteen they would actually be capable of helping themselves, but a much larger part was John needing time to heal from his wife's death before letting go of his stronghold on the boys.

"Oh, I got you something too!" Sam darted back into their room and reappeared with a donut shaped spool of tape.

Dean smiled at his brother's gift, "Duct tape! We haven't had any of this in years." Dean took the silver super tape, it looked to be about half gone but half was better than nothing.

"I won it in a bet," Sam proudly stated. Dean quirked an eyebrow, an invitation for Sam to tell his story. "Garth bet me I couldn't get Jess Moore to kiss me by the end of the week and I did. She kisses me right on the lips in the middle of school." Garth was Sam's oddball friend who always seemed to have tools and supplies no one else could get. Often times though he lost them to Sam when the two made bets.

Dean ruffled Sam's hair, "'At boy, Sammy!"

John smiled as he placed a bowl of food in front of Sam, "I heard there was going to be an execution this evening - if you boys wanted to go see it."

"Who are they killing?" Sam spat with food still in his mouth.

"Not who, what. I heard some farmers finally found one of the vampires that had been snatching their animals."

"Vampires? Cool." Sam's eyes gleamed with childish delight.

Dean slowly finished swallowing his food before he spoke, "I was actually hoping I could go out today, maybe mid-afternoon, and track some larger game. Possible say out overnight?"

John sat with his brows furrowed in thought for a moment before reluctantly giving his answer. "Alright, but you need more than just that damn axe of yours', take Sam's spear with you too. And it will get cold so remember your flint, and for God's sake, take your jacket for once."

Dean smiled, "Thanks dad." He got up from the table to start packing.

…

Dean started first at the creek. It's was the beginning of spring which meant the water as flowing strongly with the melting snow runoff. The ground was moist and muddy making tracking easy. Dean only had to walk a few dozen yards from the tail to find fresh hoof prints that looks to be from a large buck or a growing elk. He followed the scattered prints until they met up with what must be the rest of the herd. At this point Dean could tell it was elk he was following; the prints were all just too big to be deer. He tailed the elk, looking for prints, occasional scat, and often finding low tree branches stepped of leaves.

After hours of walking Dean sat, sweating even in the cooling evening air, on an old log to drink from his water skin. The hunter noticed the unease of the forest was soon as he sat, no birds sang, crickets stopped chirping, and even the tree limbs seemed to have ceased dancing in the wind. It felt like the rising tension of a pot about to boil over. Suddenly from the corner of his eye Dean caught a humanoid figure running impossibly fast at him. He jerked his head around in time to the person over estimate their strength and barrel into him with enough force to send both of them tumbling down the small hill behind them. The pair stopped rolling with a thump, landing Dean underneath his attacker. He looked up to see the snarling face of a woman with... with an extra row of razor sharp teeth. The woman lunged for his neck and Dean instinctively threw his right arm up against her mouth. The vampire bit down on Dean's arm, cutting through his jacket and then his skin. He cried out in pain as she began lapping up the blood from his wound, wrapping her hands against his arm to press it closer to her mouth. With his left hand, Dean awkwardly grabbed for the knife his father gave him. He knew he couldn't kill a vampire with anything except beheading, but he hoped she would at least be shocked long enough for him to get his axe. He ripped the blade from his pocket and stabbed it upwards into the female's chest. She released his arm just like he had hoped eyes wide with shock. Dean threw her to the side and rolled over to stand up, only to find his foot was trapped by the log he had been sitting on earlier. Dean moaned in frustration and looked back at his attacker, but to his shock, she was dead on the ground.

He stared at her body dumbstruck. Her eyes were glassy and her open mouth still had a thin stream of Dean's blood running down her chin. How could she be dead? He only knifed her in the chest. Dean cautiously removed the blade, he didn't want her popping back up as soon as the knife was gone, but she never stirred. He wiped the blood best as he could off the knife using his jeans as a cloth. He turned the blade over and over in his hands but it was still the same, ordinary knife he had been given this morning.

The pressing pain that was beginning to well up in his ankle reminded Dean of the log trapping him on the forest floor. He tucked the knife carefully back in his pocket before examining the log. It was old, rotted and slick with rainwater and moss. He tried wrapping his arms around it and lifting enough to slide his foot out. But the log's weight proved to be too much for Dean when his good arm had a gaping bite on it. Rolling the log off was out of the question; the angle at which it had landed on him it would shatter his foot. Dean twisted around to look for a rock to wedge under it and maybe a strong stick to create a lever.

Instead of the leafy forest floor Dean was greet with something unexpected. Planted directly behind him was a pair of pale, dirty, rugged feet. Dean slowly followed the feet up to mud splashed shins and frayed pants. His eyes continued to travel up the stranger's tattered t-shirt and landed on a beautiful set of eyes already locked on him.

Standing above Dean was the same black winged, blue eyed angel he had saved three years earlier.


	3. Home

The angel stared at him with agonizing intensity. His crystal blue eyes searched his entire body, lingering on his face a moment longer than anywhere else, until they landed firmly on Dean's trapped ankle. The angel's face of scrutiny dissolved as a weak smile plastered his lips. I'm done for, Dean thought, he knows I'm helpless and he's going to rip my throat out now. But the angel never showed any sign of aggression. His body language remained calm, even playful. He trotted lightly over to the log holding Dean down. Knelt down and wedged two slender hands under the slick wood. He lifted it with ease that Dean wouldn't have guessed due to his wiry frame. Dean quickly yanked his leg back before the angel dropped the log, landing with a substantial thump.

"Uh, thanks man." Dean mumbled sitting up. He slowly extended his arm up, offering a handshake and half hoping for help standing up.

The angel looked at his hand quizzically, popping an eye brow and cocking his head. He leaned down, his face inches away from Dean's finger and inhaled deeply through his nose. The angel took hold of Dean's arm, bringing the hunter's scared flesh closer to his face. Dean flinched back, shocked at the angel's actions. But the angel was too involved with Dean's scent to surrender now. He shamelessly seated himself on the elder Winchester's pelvis and, abandoning the arm, began pushing his nose into the creases and hollows of Dean's neck.

Lying on the damp ground, Dean was immobilized in shock and growing horror. The angel sat on his hips, effetely pinning him down, and putting Dean at this creature's full mercy, but winged thing only sniffed his chest. Dean felt the cold spring air nip at his skin as the angel carefully peeled the left half of his jacked from his body. The cold was quickly replaced by the angel's warm hand resting on his ribcage. The angel's skin was warm, much warmer than Dean's. The feverish sweat that had stared to collect on Dean's brow instantly doubled as the angel stopped his scent search to place his ear on Dean's sternum, listening to the drumming of his heart. Dean counted five shallow breaths like this, an ear to his chest and the angel's stomach pressed against his, before a great pounding of wings lifted the angel off him.

Dean laid on the ground gasping for air and feeling the dance of cold trickle across his chest from the loss of the angel's burning heat. He looked over to his side only half hoping the angel would still be around, but not five feet to his left was black winged angel with a childish smirk coating his face. Dean looked over to his right hand which was tauntingly waving something. Dean had to squint to make out his knife enclosed in the angel's grip.

"Hey," Dean called, "that's mine!" He felt in his jacket pocket and realized the angel must have slipped his hand in a stolen it sometime when he was on top of Dean.

Dean scrambled to his feet, only finishing one step before he fell back down. The pain in his ankle was brutal, shooting up his calf and wrapping down into his toes. The angel instantly was back next to him, worry replacing him smirk.

"Get away from me," Dean smacked at the angel weakly.

The angel caught Dean's arms, clamping them against his side. "I help." He croaked out. "Let me… help you."

Dean relaxed a bit, now knowing he wasn't going to be assaulted again. He let the angel tenderly remove his boot and pull up the hem of his torn jeans to examine his ankle. It was a light purple shade and beginning to swell. He slowly bent Dean's foot back and forth, left and right as far the joint would move without Dean whimpering in pain. Next he lightly wrapped his hands around Dean's entire ankle, the heel of his hands on the top of half and his fingertips lacing across Dean's Achilles tendon. Dean winced slightly at the pressure but the pain immediately faded when the angel began to softly mutter word in a language Dean didn't know. After the angel removed his hands the pain was reduced to a dull throb. Finally the angel removed his fraying t-shirt and began ripping it into strips he wrapped around Dean's ankle.

The angel stood, bringing Dean up with him. "Come," He said, "I take you home."

Dean, in no position to argue, threw his arm over the angel's shoulder as the two limped into the woods. After getting his bearing Dean noticed they were heading the wrong direction of his home. They were heading deeper into the woods, up the mountain their village sat at the foot of.

"No, this is the wrong way-" Dean started.

"No, right way," the angel cut in, "we go to my home."

Anxiety washed over Dean. What would await him at the home of a wild angel? Certainly the angel's older brother would be there, and when they met before he didn't seem so fond of Dean. What if the Angel lived with other angel's besides his brother? What if they all tried to kill him? Where did the angel live? In a tree a cave maybe? Angels are wild creatures, Dean remembered a teacher telling him once. They may look and act human but they are beasts. They can be vicious and cunning, tricking you into thoughts of safety before tuning on you.

"Castiel," The angel sated, oblivious to Dean's worry. "My name is Castiel."

"Uh, Dean, I'm Dean." Castiel nodded in acknowledgement.

The pair limped along for another moment before they reached a wall of rock that jutted out from the mountain side. Castiel guided Dean along it until they reached the corner. "This is home." Castiel announced before half dragging Dean around the corner.

What Dean saw surprised him. Connected to the other side of the wall they had just turned was another sheer cliff. At the walls joint there was a shallow cave and a few thick, leafy tree branch shoved in the cracks of the rock to create a canopy. A handful of paces away from the shelter there was a small smokeless fire going and Dean could see the profile of another angel stoking the coals. The breath Dean had been holding escaped him in a rush at he identified the angel as not being Castiel's brother. This angel looked to be about his father's age, with a soft face and relaxed features. His hair and eyes were a matching coco brown and his pearly gray wings were loosely folded on his back like Castiel's.

"Michael," Castiel called.

Michael broke his glazed eyes away from the fire and turned them towards the pair. Michael's eyes fixed themselves to Dean, examining him, but not with anger or worry. "He is hurt?" Michael asked, his eyes noticing how all of Dean's weight was on one of his legs.

"Yes. Help him." Castiel walked Dean over to where Michael was sitting.

Michael motioned for Dean to sit next to him and he did. "Were you the one who hurt him?" Michael asked Castiel as he unwrapped Dean's ankle and began probing it like Castiel had before.

"No," Castiel shook his head. "Found him this way."

"A vampire attacked me," Dean muttered. Michael looked him in the eyes for the first time and Dean immediately trusted him. Michael's eyes weren't full of hate of distrust like Dean had expected; they were calm, genuinely concerned with Dean's wellbeing. "We tumbled down a hill and a tree log landed on my ankle. The vampire bit my arm, but otherwise I'm fine."

"How did you get away?" Michael asked.

"Didn't, killed with this." Castiel answered for Dean. He pulled out Dean's knife from his pants and handed it to Michael.

Michael looked over the knife, running his fingers over the symbols carved in the metal. He looked like he was trying to read them but only understood half the words. Michael handed the knife back to Castiel. "Lucifer will want to see this, show it to him when he gets back." Castiel nodded tucking the knife back away. "May I see your bite?" Michael asked looking at Dean's arm.

"Oh, oh yeah." Dean rolled his coat sleeve back to expose the ring of teeth marks on his forearm. A thin scab had formed but it rubbed away with Michael's touch, coating his fingers with Dean's blood.

"Hum, I think Anna is better suited for this one. Castiel, would you mind fetching her? Last she told me she was at the waterfall."

Castile nodded before extending his wings and taking flight. Dean was able to marvel at Castiel's black silky wings for a moment before they disappeared behind the trees. Now Dean was left alone with Michael who had gone back to doctoring his ankle. He placed his hands on several different spots, murmuring different words louder than Castiel had earlier. Dean noticed Michael, unlike Castiel, was fully clothed. Not just that, his clothing was also in relatively good shape. The white of his button down shirt was still pure and the cuffs of his jeans were in newly bought condition. The angel's hair was nice as well, messily combed into submission with his fingers. All of this along with the angel's fluent speech…

"Were you…" Dean stopped wondering if it was inappropriate to continue. "Were you someone's pet?"

Michael stopped and bit his lip, keeping his eyes trained on the ground. "I was. My younger brother, Lucifer, and I both were." He looked up at Dean a silent pain in his eyes. "We broke free earlier this year with the help of Castiel's brother Gabriel."

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to upset-"

"No, you're fine. I just haven't talked about any of this in a while. You see Gabriel and Lucifer-" Now it was Michael's turn to be cut off by the loud flaps of two sets of wings.

Dean looked up, able to make out Castiel's silhouette along with the coppery wings and matching hair of the female angel he assumed was Anna. She landed gracefully, her knees taking the brunt of the impact, and giggle gleefully at Dean. Dean noticed upon looking down from her smiling face the girl wore absolutely no clothing, save a handful of vines tightly wrapped around her chest. Dean felt his face flush bright red and dropped his eye down to his feet so as not to stare at her. Anna carelessly danced over to where he was sitting and ran her fingers over his jacketed back.

"It's so smooth!" She giggled out. Dean's face reddened even more when Anna began trying to take off his jacket.

"Anna," Michael huffed taking her hands off Dean. She pouted was Michael seated her next to Dean. "Anna's never seen a human before." Michael explained.

"You look… like me." Anna beamed. Her words were slow and choppy like Castiel's; like she needed to think and plan every word out. "How do you… make without wings?"

"I walk. I walk with my legs everywhere I go." Dean answered. Something about how curious Anna was made him smile. She was like a new candle, burning bright with wonder and happiness.

"Anna, did Castiel tell you that Dean here needs your help?" Michael asked her.

Her face darkened a moment as she thought. "Yes," her smile returning. "I …heal him." Her tone raised an octave as she said the word "heal" as if she was questioning whether or not that was the proper word. But Michael nodded, an assurance she got it right.

She smiled wider with self-satisfaction was she took Dean's injured arm. She gingerly rolled up his sleeve and surveyed the damage. She licked the palm of her right hand coating it in her saliva. She placed the wet hand over Dean's wound so it covered the entire thing. Dean's face contorted in disgust but her did nothing to stop her as she whispered the same odd language Michael and Castiel had.

She must have just gone for a swim, Dean thought trying to distract himself from the tingling itch under Anna's hand. Anna's skin was cool and her fingers slightly pruned. The wet ends of her long hair even clung to her stomach… Dean jerked his head up not wanting to stare. He tried looking around to fix his eyes on something else. He saw Castiel staring at him with that same tilted-head-and-cocked-eyebrow confused expression.

Anna jumped at Dean's sudden movement, removing her hand to reveal soft pink scar tissue in place of teeth marks. "Did me hurt you?" She asked.

"Oh no you're fine." Dean said focusing intently on her face, only her face. "I really should be going." Dean grabbed his boot and began to put it on his injured foot. Michael had quelled the raging pain into a dull throb. The walk home would be uncomfortable but bearable. "Thank you so much for all your help but-"

"Stay," Castiel interrupted him. Dean looked down at the angel's warm hand on his chest, passively trapping him.

"Castiel's right," Michael piped up. "I think you fractured a few bones in your foot, you need more time to mend and the night is coming, you won't be able to see well. Stay with us, just for the night."

Dean went from angel to angel looking at their facial expressions. Michaels was obvious concern and Anna was looking at him like a toy, but Castiel's face was unreadable. His eyes trained on Dean's feet and his hands fidgeting in front of him.

"Alright," Dean sighed. Castiel looked up to meet him with a smile so warm stretched across his face it melted all of Dean's anxieties.


	4. Lucifer

"He not like me?" Anna asked Michael looking at Dean who had fallen asleep leaning against Castiel.

Throughout dinner and the time the four of them spent chatting after, Dean had hardly looked at Anna. He ate is meal of roots and berries mostly with is eyes examining the ground or staring at some part of Castiel, occasionally he'd look at Michael but never Anna.

"No, I don't think so," Michael replied lying down to look at the stars in the fading morning light. "You just make him nervous." Anna raised an eyebrow, lying down next to him. "Most humans wear full clothing all the time, like me." He gestured to his shirt and pants while Anna looked down at her nakedness.

"Why? He look at Castiel."

"Castiel walking around shirtless, this is more normal for Dean. Some men do this all the time." Michael put his arm around Anna, even though he's know her only a short time she felt like a little sister to him. And explaining boys to her, well I couldn't get more siblingey than that. "Dean doesn't look at you because he doesn't want to embarrass you. Humans always wear cloths because they get cold and feel weird when people look at their bare skin."

"Why feel weird?" Her face was twisted in confusion Michael hadn't seen since he told her what humans were.

Michael sighed, explaining the concept of nudity and why humans felt uncomfortable with it was going to have to be a conversation he had with Anna later. It was something that was very hard to explain to a person who had never experienced it. Michael had spent almost his entire live with humans so he was well aware of the concept (it even influenced his decision to fully dress, even now with his freedom) but Anna had been wild her whole life. Twenty or so years untouched by mankind, she roamed the mountains as a nomad. Traveling where she could eat, resting when she tired and never once wearing clothing.

The snapping of twig and rustling of tree branches sounded across the clearing of their home. Anna sprung up, racing across the meadow to greet the two other member of their patchwork family. Michael stood as well, crossing after Anna but at a much slower pace. Anna slammed into Gabriel, placing her arms on his bare chest and leaning in for a kiss. Gabriel returned Anna's kiss, wrapping his arms around her and lifting her off the ground. She giggled and squealed in the arms of her mate.

Michaels smiled at the couple before turning to his brother. "Lucifer, how was your trip?"

"Good, Gabriel showed me the two surrounding villages and a mountain spring. It'd be an excellent place to hide out if they come looking for us." Lucifer's gunmetal blue eyes gleaming in the pale morning glow.

"Now can I talk to you two for a moment about-"

"Where's Castiel?" Gabriel asked putting Anna down. He still kept an arm protectively around her.

Michael chose his words carefully. "He is sleeping by the fire… with someone."

"He found another angel?" Gabriel asked excited.

"No," Lucifer stared at Michael anger defining his pale features. "You didn't. You did not let Castiel bring a human here." He voice was a shout, it woke Dean and Castiel.

"Wha-" Dean started still groggy with sleep.

He opened his eyes to see Lucifer storming towards him, the dying fire illuminating his snowy wings and golden hair. Dean started scrambling backwards, a weak attempt to escape. Lucifer quickly caught up to him, grabbing Dean's collar and hefting him off the ground. He slammed Dean against the stone wall. Lucifer pulled a sharp piece of stone from his pants pocket and held it to Dean's throat.

"How did you find us?" He snarled.

"Didn't, Castiel… found me" Dean's voice shook with fear as tears began to roll down his cheeks.

"I don't believe that! All of you humans are self-serving bastards; you came looking for Michael and I. Who sent you? Was it Her!" Lucifer pressed the tip of the Stone Age knife into Dean's skin enough to create a thin line of blood.

"Let go him!" Castiel cried ripping a handful of Lucifer's milky white feathers from one of his wings.

Lucifer dropped Dean into a crumpled heap. He whipped around to face Castiel, backhanding him with enough force to send him crashing to the ground. Gabriel and Michael rushed over Lucifer. Each angel grabbing an arm, they pinned him to the wall next to Dean's terrified body. Anna hunched down over Castiel, checking to see if he was alright.

"Lucifer!" Michael shook his brother. "Calm yourself!"

"It's okay," Gabriel cooed. "He's okay. This is the human that freed Castiel from a net years ago."

"But he is still human," Lucifer growled through barred teeth.

"And you will leave him be," Michael commanded.

The pair slowly released Lucifer, making certain he wouldn't lunge at Dean again. Lucifer looked down at Dean huddled against Castiel. At some point Castiel mush have crawled over two him and now he held the boy protectively against his bare chest. Lucifer scoffed at the sight as he stormed off to the clearing's edge. The rustle of his wings could be heard before the sight of his body, tinted pink by the dawn, bobbed in an out of view from behind the tree line.

"I think," Michael started, running shaky fingers through his hair, "Now would be the time for you to return home."


	5. Gabriel

"Am I…" Dean started. Gabriel was escorting him back to the forest's edge to assure he did not get lost or get attacked again. Anna, Castiel, and Michael were off in search for Lucifer. "Am I… allowed… to ask what happened back there?"

The suffocating silence between the two had lasted an hour's hike out of the woods, now Dean had cracked it. But Gabriel when right ahead and shattered it when a low laugh rumbled out of him.

"You can ask, but it doesn't mean I'm going to answer." he replied, shortly after the silence had set back in place, resuming its press on Dean.

Gabriel knew good and well why Lucifer over reacted like him did. Actually in Lucifer's book, slamming Dean against a wall was a light punishment for Dean's crime of existing.

Two and a half years ago Gabriel had been captured and sold into slavery, if you wanted to call it that. In truth it was more like being a pageant pony, paraded around and occasionally smacked for misbehaving. His capture happened a few months after Castiel had been caught in that dammed net. Gabriel was flying with Castiel, teaching him how to hunt when an arrow sprang out from the ground and imbedded itself in his wing. Then another, and another, until he had five arrows, all with ropes attached to them dragging him down to earth. He landed hard on a boulder with enough force to dislocate his right wing. Before he knew it, six men threw a net over him and dragged him through the forest and threw him into a van, bound and gagged. Gabriel remembered lying on the cold metal crying, his only solace was that Castiel was still free.

His master had been a female demon named Lilith, she ruled as a governor two regions over. She had bought him at an auction his captors had taken him to. They washed him and patched up his wounds, setting his wing back in place was excruciating. They also gave him a new pair of shorts and locked a collar around his neck. The people at the auction smelt funny as the poked and prodded at Gabriel, a smell he soon came to know at demon. Then the people bit on him the man on the stage holding Gabriel's leash did something to him, touched just the right vertebra in his spine. It made his flesh goose bump, his hair stand on end and his tawny peppered wings unfurled from his back and spread wide across the stage. The crowd gasped and cheered as the bidding began.

Ultimately of course, Lilith won. He was taken to her house in a cage, a thing he immediately disliked. She examined him up close once he was let out. Her blue eyes roamed all over him and then her hands. Slowly walking in a circle around him she poked, squeezed, and pinched his legs, arms, torso, and wings. She hesitated on his wings he flinched at the pain of his reset wing. She did the thing to him again, making his hair stand up and his wings fly out. She ran her fingers down the entire length of his wings feeling his soft feathers, plucking out one or two. She examined the loose feathers as Gabriel yelped quietly at the pricking pain. Next she moved to his mouth and eyes, forgetting his feathers. She opened his mouth wide, sticking her finger in to touch a few of his teeth. She shined a very bright light in his eyes while she held it open. He tried to jerk back at the blinding pain but two men rushed up and held him firm while Lilith finished her inspection. Finally she thrust her hand down his pants, grabbing between his legs. Gabriel fought harder against the men than he had with the light, this was not something his enjoyed.

"He is in perfect working condition boys," She told the men smiling, pulling her hand out of his pants. "I want him washed, fed, properly clothed and a bed for him dragged in with the other two."

The bath, Gabriel hadn't minded, it was nice to bath in warm water, a luxury he only had in the woods in the heat of summer when the gift wasn't really wanted. The food was also enjoyable, meat and cheese in between two slices of bread, the humans called it a "sandwich", and some fruit. He most certainly could have gone without the clothing though. The men gave him pants that came to his ankles that were stiff and unnaturally blue. The jeans weighted Gabriel down and made walking feel clumsy and difficult. They also tried to put a black t-shirt on him. Gabriel ripped three identical shirts before the men managed to get him to stop struggling as they pulled it over his head and slipped his wings through slits in the back. It was suffocating and Gabriel's skin crawled under his new garments. He decided he did not like clothing.

At long last after the men were panting and sweating from their efforts of grooming Gabriel they tossed him in a room and promptly locked the door behind them. Gabriel pounded and clawed at the door, not liking the smallness of the room. He began to cry and choke as the walls pressed in on him.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," He heard a soothing voice behind him and a hand lightly brush on his wing.

Gabriel turned around to see two angels in the small room with him. He jerked back from the one closest to him with gray wings. In the wild he and Castiel had ran into a handful of other angels. Some were friendly, others were violent, but all of them, including Gabriel and his brother, were territorial. Gabriel huddled in a corner waiting to see how the two others treated him.

"Michael, I think he's wild," the other angel said.

This one had silvery white wings and sunflower blond hair, with dull blue eyes that held a life time of sadness. He was starkly different from the other, having chocolate hair and eyes, but Gabriel could see similarities between them. They had the same rounded facial features but different noses; they held their folded wings the same way. Brothers, Gabriel concluded, they are brothers. At that thought Gabriel began to wail thinking of his own brother, Castiel, alone in the woods.

"Shh, it's okay. We're not going to hurt you," The older cooed.

With his brother's help, the pair managed to get Gabriel into his bed. That night Gabriel fell asleep crying and staring out a window with bars on it.

…

As the days progressed into weeks Gabriel came to know the two brothers. Michael and Lucifer were their names. Gabriel learned Michael was seven year older than his brother and the two were half-brothers. They had the same father but Michael's mother had died shortly after he was born. Michael and his father had been captured from the wild when he was five and he had spent the next twenty-three years of his life being domestic. Lucifer was born shortly before Michael and his father were separated when Lilith bought the brother's but not their father. The boys grew up together, looking after each other and protecting themselves.

Gabriel also told them about himself. He talked about his little brother, the forest he lived in, other angels they had met, humans they had crossed. All of this was hard to convey though, since he knew very little English. But the longer he spent in Lilith's house the more words he learned and the better his speech got. As well as words Gabriel learned human customs and gestures that were very foreign to him.

After an month of being in Lilith's house the same men that had groomed Gabriel on his first day came into their room early. They flicked on the light, causing the florescent ceiling bulbs to crackle and hum to life. Gabriel rubbed the sleep out of his eyes as the men coaxed him out of bed and began dressing him. He looked over to see Michael and Lucifer moving mechanically, dressing themselves and allowing the men to inspect their bodies. Gabriel began to worry that he was going to be sold again before he noticed the tired, dull expressions on the two's faces like they had done this many times before and that calmed him some.

"Alright boys it's show day," A blond woman with a leather jacket and clip board announced entering the room. "I want you on your best behaviors and to smile when the judges come."

"We know Ruby," Lucifer droned, obviously irritated at her.

The woman, Ruby, nodded to the man closest to Lucifer as he backhanded the angel. Gabriel gasped while Lucifer looked utterly unimpressed.

"You're the new one," Ruby said too sweetly to Gabriel. "Well today I just want you to smile and look pretty like you always do." She pinched Gabriel's cheek, talking to him like he was a child.

Ruby, Michael explained was the they were being transported to the show, was Lilith's personal assistant, and today was show day. Once a month some of the demonic governors held a stock show for supernatural creatures. Anyone could attend to show off their precious pets, and Lilith always entered her angels.

"We're show ponies," Lucifer stated dryly. "You smile, wave, and do what you're told. Usually you win a ribbon; sometimes they'll take you out of your cage to do tricks."

Both of the brothers looked at each other grimly, making Gabriel wonder what these "tricks" were.

…

The fair was very over whelming for Gabriel. So many face and people stopped to leer at him, he tried to hide but that was impossible with the small dimensions of his cage. Some of the people tried to touch or poke at him, a few even offered him food, but most just stared in awe at him. When a small group of men dressed black suits came around Gabriel decided these much be the "judges" Lucifer told him about. He tried to smile and not look skittish but ultimately failed. He could feel his heart beat slow down when the men finally stopped writing on their clipboard and moved on to a shape shifter next to him.

Waves of relief rolled of Gabriel as strong men finally loaded his cage back into the trailer that had brought him, Michael and Lucifer's cage were there. Gabriel noticed Michael was already in the van sitting in the corner of his cage with his face buried in his hands. He saw Lucifer's cage with a white ribbon on it sat empty in the back of the trailer.

"He got Chosen… again," Michael weakly stated pulling his face out of his hands. His eyes were puffy and red from crying. Being Chosen was a very bad thing sthat happened to Lucifer often. On the way home through sobs Michael explained Lilith's main intention of showing her angels off.

Being Chosen meant someone wanted to borrow you from your owner. Sometimes it meant whoever was borrowing you wanted you at a party to show off or to study for science, but most of the time it meant they wanted to breed you with another angel. Gabriel was horrified at the thought. Angels by nature usually mated once for life, but that was in the wild. In captivity they angels were a dying breed. Some owners did nothing with their angles but breed them, Michael said, his voice hollow with sadness. That was how Lucifer was born, and now that was what he was forced to do. Michael had been Chosen a handful of times but it almost always happened to Lucifer. He was strong and beautiful and many owners recognized this and paid Lilith to rent him for a night.

"Hey" Dean called, snapping Gabriel out of his memory, "I think I got it from here."

The boy stood at edge of the woods, Gabriel could smell the smoke from human fires in the distance. "Alright, go on. Oh, and Dean," Dean looked back at Gabriel standing a few yards uphill of him. "I'll skin you alive if you tell anyone about us."

Gabriel watch Dean's adam's apple bob down and back with a swallow as he nodded his understanding. Gabriel watched Dean retreating form as he indulged in the thought he had never been Chosen. The thought of Anna's pure, beautiful face intensified this feeling. They had been together ever since the escaped three found her and Castiel in the woods. Castiel, Gabriel internally sighed, his innocent little brother looked at Dean the same was he looked at Anna. Castiel his stupid little brother was wonder struck with a human.


	6. Charlie

"AAAARRRRRRRR" Sam cried as he crashed into Dean.

The two brother's landed with a thump as Dean's back hit the dirt of their backyard. Dean grunted in pain as his healing ankle jarred against the hard packed earth. Sam laughed trying to pin his older brother but Dean's weight advantage proved to much for Sam's skill as the two flipped positions. Sam wiggled under Dean strong arms throwing up dirt.

"You can't pin me yet Sammy," Dean growled dropping one of his arms to tickle his little brother's stomach.

"Dean, don't kill your brother, I've spent too much money on him." John joked seeing Sam nearly in tears from laughter. "Dean, why don't you come in, Sam and I just finished lunch."

The boys picked themselves up and dusted each other off before trotting in the house. Dean served himself the left over stale bread and cold potato soup from his family's lunch. He sat at the table with a rusted spoon and chipped bowl and began attacking his food. This was his first real meal in almost a day, the small meal the angels had given him last night did little more than remind him of his father's good cooking.

"Woah, slow down tiger, that foods not gonna get up and walk away," John's joke got a small laugh from Sam and a smile from Dean. "So tell me, how'd your hunt go?"

Dean stopped chewing for a moment in horrified realization. The entire time he'd been walking back with Gabriel he the thought hadn't once occurred to him Sam or his father would ask questions. He quickly swallowed his food and spat out, "It went fine."

"Dean, where's my spear? Did you already put it back in the shed?" Sam questioned.

"Oh yeah, about that..." Dean rapidly ran scenarios through his mind that justified him loosing Sam's spear, his axe, his bag, and his knife. Shit. Castiel still had Dean's new, vampire killing knife. "Um..." He stuttered, "I had a complication."

John put down the metal work he was fiddling with and looked Dean directly in the eyes, "What kind of complication?" his deep baritone voice rattling through Dean's spine.

"It wasn't that big of a deal," Dean said trying not to, and half way succeeding, sound nervous. "I was just tracking some deer and I wasn't paying attention and miss placed my footing. I fell tumbled down a little bit of a cliff and lost of my gear. I ended up staying the night where I landed because I twisted my ankle."

Dean could feel the ghost of a nervous sweat roll down the back of his neck. John mulled over the partial lie Dean had fed him. "Your ankle good now?"

Dean breathed a sigh of relief, "Yeah, I worked most of the pain out on the walk home this morning."

"Good" John grunted "I expect you to go gather what you can tomorrow, take Sam with you this time. But for now, Sam you need to get back to school and Dean why don't you walk him there then get of water from the well."

Sam grumbled to himself as he grabbed his math and English book off the table and stomped out the front door, Dean following him.

...

Dean ruffled Sam's hair and pat him on the back, "Alright, go learn something moose." Dean called to Sam's retreating figure.

Dean watched as Sam disappeared into the one room shack of a school house. A middle aged woman stood in the door way, greeting Sam and the other children returning from their midday meal. Their ages ranged from five or six to late teens. Dean remembered having read in one of his history books that before the supernatural took over humans had schools with hundreds of kids, rather than his village's measly thirty. The book also said kids were forced to go to school all, day everyday, and kids were separated by age and they learned in large buildings with multiple teachers. Dean had thought the idea was absurd. Who had the time to be in school that much, and who needed that much schooling?

John had a rule that the boys must attend school at least four day a week until they were thirteen. After that they could choose to remain in school or work. As soon as Dean came of age he quit school, never looking back. But Sam, despite his reluctance after lunch, really loved learning. Weather it was math or watching Dean's careful hands teaching him ho to make a new snare, Sam's eyes glowed with a lust for knowledge. Dean didn't mind the thought that one day his baby brother would be smarter than him, in fact he relished it. Maybe Sam could grow up to be someone important, move to a city and have a good life. But for now his little brother dragged his feet in the morning on the way to school.

Dean too was dragging his feet on the way to one of the town's community wells. He was holding two of their family's three gallon buckets. Dean was strong for his age but he still dreaded lugging the two heavy, water filled buckets the long, mostly uphill trek back home. Dean approached the stone rimmed well, a light sweat trickling down his forehead in the afternoon heat. He went thought the mechanical, well rehearsed movements of attaching one of the buckets to the well's rope and throwing the bucket into the watery depths of the well. He grunted as he manually heaved the rope back up, this well didn't have a crank like the nicer, newer on in town square. When Dean felt the rope under his hand had become wet with water his looked over the side, seeing his bucket had lost almost half its water on its way up. Dean sighed in annoyance and let go of the rope, causing the bucket to land back in the water with a satisfying splash. Dean was not making two water trips in one day. He began hauling the pale up again, this time his movements were smoother and slower. When Dean finally lifted the water over the well's edge he took a long drink before untying the rope and repeating the process with his other bucket.

"Heya Dean," Charlie called in her sing song voice approaching the well with her own buckets.

"Oh hey Charlie," Dean grunted with his final tug on the rope, pulling up his second bucket.

Charlie's family owned the fabric and clothing store in town that Dean's mother used to work at. She was a two or three years older than Dean, he and Sam used to to play with her when their parents were working. They were all partners in crime, terrorizing the town with their games and getting in trouble together. Dean had always had a crush on her until she politely told him he compass didn't point to boys. Dean remember being twelve and being crushed for the first time. He had eventually got over it thought. But Dean still had no issue admitting she was beautiful. With her red braided her hair and pale eyes, a lot of boys looked at her. She looks a bit like Anna, Dean thought to himself. Same hair, skin color, even their body shape (not that Dean had been looking intently at Anna's body...) roughly mirrored each other.

"Hey Charlie can I ask a weird favor?"

Charlie had just thrown her bucket into the well. "If you haul this up I'll think about it pretty boy," She smirked handing him the rope.

Dean groaned taking the rope from her hand and started pulling, not taking as much care as he had with his buckets. "You don't happen to have any spare or scrap fabric you could give me?" Dean asked handing Charlie her first bucket.

"That's not exactly weird Dean," She handed he her other pail and he started the process of filling it.

"Well I'm getting to that, I was also wondering if you have any old breast bands you could give me..." Dean let his voice trail off knowing how awkward that question sounded.

"Dean... " Charlie started, her face warped in concerned confusion.

"I swear its not for anything creepy, I just have a friend who wants one but she can't afford a new one. And you're really the only girl I feel comfortable asking about this," Dean rushed out. It was a partial truth, he did feel comfortable asking Charlie, but he had no idea if Anna would want a breast band to replace the vines she wore.

She tentatively took the full bucket from Dean's out stretched arm. "I'll see what I can do." She began walking back towards her family home.

Dean shrugged, making his own way home. At this point, he could only hope Charlie would give him what he asked for. He ran the scene over and over in his head on his way back home, rehearsing lies for Charlie if she asked more questions. He even developed an entire story for if his father or Sam started asking questions.

Dean returned home to an empty home. His father, he figured, was either back at the steelworks or out hunting. It's an endless job, his father always said, to keep you boys fed. Since the he had the house to himself for a few hours Dean began rummaging through his family's endless junk looking for his mother's old sewing kit. He'd like to say that after her death they got to keep most of her personal items to remember her by, but in reality they were too poor for such a luxury. They had to sell most of her clothing and other things to keep above water. The small plastic kit Dean held in his hands was originally part of a larger collection of other sewing materials but now it was stripped down to a tiny clear box containing a set of needle and two spools of black and white thread. For the most part the three men only used the kit to patch holes in clothing when they couldn't afford replacement items. But now Dean had it in his mind to put the little kit to the test of making clothing.

Surprisingly Dean was the best at sewing out of the Winchester boys. Granted, Dean's seamstress training had been limited to helping Charlie and watching his mother work. He still knew how to thread a needle, do a handful of different stitches, and had a basic idea of how to make clothing nets. Dean was only hoping this would be enough knowledge to allow him to make a few different clothing items for the angels.

A soft knock sounded at the door followed by Charlie's voice, "Dean? I got the clothing scraps."

Dean opened the door seeing a big canvas bag slung over her shoulder, "Oh great, thanks. Come in." He beckoned he inside and seated her at their kitchen table before retreating to his room. "So what do I owe you? I don't have money but could I trade you something? I think we have some deer jerky or how about rabbit fur? It was just a baby, fur's all soft." He grabbed the duct tape Sam had given him returning for the kitchen. "Or how some of this?"

Charlie laughed, "Dean Winchester you are too good to me. Your birthday was yesterday so how about I make this your present? But I'm keeping to bag, my parents would kill me if I gave that away." She dumped all the fabric bit onto the table and tucked the crumpled up bag into one of the many pockets of her old tan trench coat. Dean could see even without moving the fabric there were a few decent sized pieces in the heap. "Um but this," She pulled a gray breast band from her jacket, "Comes with a bit of a price." Dean nodded, accepting her terms. "I mean it's not anything big, but... but could you try and set me up with Lisa?"

Dean blinked at the request. Lisa was an apprentice at the blacksmith's shop. Dean went in there for various things and they'd become some sort of friends. Dean remembered mentioning their friendship to Charlie once. "Yeah sure, Charlie, but I don't think she's into-"

"I know, I don't have any expectations, but just promise you'll try."

"I promise." Charlie smiled handing him the gray circle of material.

Dean felt the worn, soft, stretchy material of the breast band. He quickly stuffed it in his pocket, not wanting memories of other girls breast bands to bring an awkward blush to his face.

"So what do you want all this fabric for?" Charlie asked inspecting the material.

"Well I was actually wanting to make some clothing." Dean told her, showing Charlie his little sewing kit.

"Really? I thought you Winchesters bought your cloths since you lot are allergic to a threaded needle."

"Well mom used to make them-" Dean stopped himself, redirecting the sentence, "I know a little, but I just want to try since money's a bit tight."

"Alright, I guess it's my seamstress's duty to help you then." She joked as she began laying the larger fabric pieces together.

Dean smiled, grateful for her help. "I thought it was because we're friends."

"Keep dreaming pretty boy," Charlie said, not looking away the needle she was threading. Dean could distinctly see the smile on her face.


	7. A Gift

Anna's shrill laughter cut through the forest air like a knife as she and Castiel rolled into the shallow pool at the base of their little waterfall. Castiel flapped his wings wildly, trying to escape the water, but Anna dragged him back as soon as his head bobbed above the surface. Yanked him closer to him and resumed squeezing of his sides that made Castiel laugh in almost-pain. The two splashed about in the water, coating each other in small tidal waves every time they beat their wings. Eventually Castiel threw his arms up in surrender; a warm, late spring breeze caressed his arms making the skin goose bump. Anna winked at him once more before sending one more tidal wave his way.

"Alright, now can you help with wings?" Castiel asked, rubbing droplets of fresh water out of his eyes. It had been a handful of weeks since Castiel had last seen Dean, he had been working with Michael to improve he speech in case he saw the hunter again.

"Yes, sit." Anna patted a boulder by the water's edge.

Castiel sat on the rock, his energy zapped from his and Anna's earlier water fight. He half stretched his wings out for Anna to comb her finger through. Castiel sighed at the lovely sensation of Anna grooming his wings. Of course he could do it himself, but it was easier for another person to do it. Anna's soft fingers slid between his charcoal back feathers, removing leaves or small twigs, washing water through dirt clumps, and repositioning disheveled feathers back in place. She ended by softly massaging the thick muscles at the top of Castiel's wings and working her hands to the base where they connected to his back. Castiel sighed at the pleasure of her hands, pretending for a moment they were Dean's hands.

She knocked him lightly on the shoulder when she finally finished, signaling it was her turn. Castiel hopped off the rock, trading places with Anna. She sat still, fidgeting occasional while Castiel ran his fingers through her feathers. Castiel let his hands take over, going into autopilot as he let his mind wonder. Sitting here with Anna quite was the closest thing to alone time Castiel had had in a week. Ever since he had brought Dean to their home Lucifer had instituted "the buddy system". This meant everyone always had to have a partner, and couldn't venture out alone. Lucifer argued with Gabriel and Michael saying it was only precautionary, so if one of them came up against humans they could defend themselves. But Castiel knew it was so that he couldn't wonder off to find Dean.

Anna jumped off the rock, practically soaring into a mini-flight when Castiel finished. Castiel marveled at her burgundy wings that matched her hair. He had always been a bit envious of Anna's wings. His were such a plain black, while she had rich tones of copper and red interlacing. She landed gracefully a few yards away from him and began walk back towards their home, knowing he would follow. Usually the angels flew back and forth from their water spring and home but not this time. The duo had just groomed their wings and didn't want to risk displacing the feathers just yet, so they walked.

"Castiel!" A voice called faintly.

Castiel shot a glance at Anna, her face contorted in confusion. None of the other angels would ever call out to him like that which meant there was only one person who that could be. Castiel took off running down the hill, away from Anna and towards the voice. He managed to gain enough speed to glide into flight, making his was towards the disembodied voice that was surely Dean's.

"Castiel?" Dean cried out again.

Castiel was so close now. He shifted his left wing down causing him to curve to the left. He circled the dense foliage like a hawk, until he zeroed in on Dean's dirty blond hair. He tucked his wings slightly against his back, losing altitude and falling to earth. He landed in the soft soil with more force than he anticipated, making him stumble forward in an attempt to keep his balance. His wings spread wide in an effort to break his fall as the momentum overcame his steps. He tumbled forwarded, landing head over heels at Dean's feet. Castiel blushed a deep red. That was the worst landing he'd had in years. Even when Gabriel had just been teaching him to fly he wasn't that bad.

Dean helped his friend to his feet. "Hello Dean," Castiel said shyly as he wiped mud off his forearms.

"Hey Cas," Dean said between laughter.

Castiel's face darkened further. He hung his head, looking at his dirty feet. "My name is Castiel." He muttered softly. The angel began to walk away from Dean; maybe coming to see him was a bad idea like Lucifer said.

"Woah, hey, I'm sorry." Dean raced to get in front of Cas. "I know what your name is, Cas is just a nickname. Humans give them to friends." Castiel's face brightened a bit. "So what was with the landing buddy? I've seen you fly before and it didn't look like that."

"I was eager to see you," Castiel smiled nervously.

"Me too Cas, me too." Dean clapped his friend on the shoulder, staring at his clear water eyes for just a moment too long. "Um, hey I brought you guys presents."

Dean shrugged his pack off his shoulders, setting it on the ground. He knelt down to reach the pack, undoing the straps to pull a few items of patch work clothing out. Castiel sank to Dean's level, examining a pair of multicolored pants.

"So that's what you were doing!" Sam cried. He stepped out from his hiding place behind a tree.

"Sam! How'd you get here!" Dean yelled jumping up, running towards his brother.

"I followed you! I didn't buy the lie you told Dad about going to see Lisa, I saw you grab the clothing you've been working so hard on for the last three weeks." Sam told Dean, his voice calmer than Dean would have expected for this situation.

"Um well, Sam this is Castiel, Cas this is my brother Sam." Dean introduced the two.

"You were the one trapped in our net a few years back!" Sam bellowed in excitement, eyeing Castiel's black wings.

The audible chorus of wings filled the air accompanied by the soft crackle of leaves underfoot made Castiel's eyes go wide. Landing behind the Winchesters was the entirety of Castiel's family flock. The brother's turned to look at the source of Castiel's shock. Sam's jaw dropped in awe at the descending angels while Dean grit his teeth. He wrapped a protective arm around Sammy, eying a not-too-happy-looking Lucifer. Anna rushed forward, grabbing Castiel's face gently.

"I sorry," she said, her hazel eyes full of remorse. "Got worried when you ran, and got help find you."

"Anna it's okay-" Castiel's crooning was cut short.

"Castiel, who is this?" Michael demanded, looking at Sam.

"He's my little brother," Dean piped up. "He just followed me out here. He's harmless I promise."

"And they brought us gifts," Castiel added, tossing Gabriel Dean's bag full of clothing.

Gabriel and Michael dug into the bag, pulling out various pieces of clothing. Lucifer raked his eys over the two Winchesters, still slightly huddled against each other. Sam's figure was small and childish against Dean's. His face showed that he now fully realized the gravity of their situation. They were intruding on the angel's territory, and that could get nasty. But somehow the frightened look on Sam face and the faked confidence on Dean's comforted Lucifer. These weren't greedy men looking to profit for his life; they were boys who had stumbled onto his path. They didn't look at the angels with disgust or pity, but concern. Lucifer allowed his face to soften into something like a smile as he looked into Dean's bag with the others.

…

Dean sat on a rock, sipping from his water skin as he watched the group below him in the setting sun. His bag sat empty in the middle of the small clearing, the clothing it used to contain strewn around it or on one of the angel's body. Castiel, Anna, and Michael sat in a triangular formation a few feet away from the bag. Dean could just barely heard wisps of their conversation. From what he could decipher the two males were trying to get Anna to wear a piece of clothing, but Anna was refusing. She was saying how she didn't like the itchy fabric all over her skin. A handful of paces away from the trio, Sam and Lucifer stood. Dean couldn't hear them because he was too far away but he had a general idea of what was happening. Sam was energetically telling a joke or funny story, waving his hands and feet in the air, while Lucifer was smiling and laughing at the boy.

The scraping of calloused skin against stone indicated Gabriel, clad in a new patchwork pants, sitting next to Dean. "Thank you." He said, not looking at Dean.

"The clothes? It was nothing." Dean shrugged.

"Not just the clothes, for just… just coming into our lives, I guess." Gabriel looked from Anna braiding strips of fabric into her hair to Lucifer laughing with Sam. "I've never seen Lucifer smile like that and Castiel…" Gabriel stopped himself.

Dean took another sip of water before offering it to Gabriel; he accepted lifting the soft leather to his lips. "I stumbled in man, but in any case I'm glad." He took the water back from Gabriel. "I don't suppose I could ask a favor?"

Gabriel's brows furrowed, "It depends."

Dean pulled the breast band Charlie gave him out of his pocket. "Could you… maybe try to get Anna to wear this? At least when I'm around."

Gabriel took the stretchy fabric from Dean, needing to examine it for a moment before he remember what they were. He let out a laugh when the realization hit him. I had forgotten human's weariness to nudity. He also smiled at Dean, in his own weird way the boy was trying to protect what he viewed at Anna's dignity. "I will try, since I have a feeling you will be around often. But I'm just going to warn you it won't be an easy task."


	8. The Knife

Lucifer watched from his perch amongst the branches of a pine tree as the Winchester boys hunted. Dean crouched on top of a boulder overlooking a small clearing where a herd of deer grazed. Sam stood adjacent to his brother just on the edge of the clearing. Both boys were down wind of the herd, which went on feeding blissfully unaware of the predators stocking them. Sam made the first move, drawing his bow and firing an arrow at a young buck grazing at the edge of the herd. The arrow landed home on the buck's left, back flank, causing the rest of the herd to scatter. The buck made a crippled run after its herd before Sam shot another arrow at the buck. It implanted itself in the buck's front right leg, just above the hoof. This sent the animal crashing to the ground. Dean sprang into action, revealing himself by dashing into the clearing. He seated himself on the thrashing animal; he gripped the nubs of the young buck's antlers attempting to stabilize its head. Dean drew his knife and sliced through the animal's throat, giving it a quick death.

Lucifer raised his eyebrows in surprise. For such young age both boys displaced enormous skill. Granted he'd seen a single man take down a much larger elk, but he was impressed none the less by the young hunters. Lucifer had been observing the boys for two weeks now. Some of the observation had taken place when the boys had come to visit the angels in the forest, but most of the time he hand been spying on them. Spying seem too strong a word though, Lucifer preferred the term keeping an eye on them.

By now Sam had come running from his hiding spot dragging tree branch a twice his height behind him. Lucifer watched as the boys tided the deer's hooves together and tied the hooves to the stick, in preparation for carrying the animal home.

Lucifer pulled the polished wooden handle of the demon blade from an inner pocket in his shirt. He ran his fingers over familiar the ruins carved into the metal. He used the edge of the unbuttoned, patchwork shirt Dean had made him the clean the already immaculate steel. Castiel had giving him the blade over a month ago, claiming he had seen Dean kill a vampire with it. Lucifer had fallen into obsession over the knife, testing Castiel's word to see if it was true.

He had hunted down supernatural creatures of his own, vampires, werewolves, shape shifters, he had even managed to nab a lone demon. He tracked and trapped them, much like he had observed the boy doing with animals, and set to killing them like Castiel claimed Dean had. He had stabbed the monsters in the chest, none of them dying as hoped. (Maybe he was doing it wrong?) In any case, the monster's weren't dead and Lucifer left them scrambling for escape.

He had studied the knife, trying to distinguish its source of power. The handle was plain wood, oak as far as Lucifer could tell, and the blade was ordinary as well. Michael had deducted it was most likely steel, not even monster killing silver. The only thing that distinguished the blade from any other knife was the ruins carved into the metal. They were a demonic script, Michael and Gabriel confirmed this; both of them remembering seeing similar symbols in Lilith's house. The three had stared at the inscription for hours in vain, bickering over what the ruins meant. They could only agree on three words written: human, demon, and kill.

Eventually Lucifer had given up hope on the weapon. He finally convinced himself that Castiel had been lying or maybe Dean had witches blood in him. At any rate, the blade wasn't going to be much help to him on his quest for revenge. He looked sorrowfully once more at the knife before slipping it back in his shirt pocket, it was time to return the blade to its owner. He jumped from his perch in the trees, spreading his snowy wings into flight. He landed a few paces from the boys, folding his wings snugly against his back.

"May I help?" He asked looking at the brother's struggling under the buck's weight. Sam's childishly round face was blotted red in the midsummer heat, Dean was breaking a sweat as well.

"Sure, if you wanna take Sammy's end-" Lucifer cut Dean off by lifting the deer from both of them. He removed the branch the boys had been using and slung the buck over his shoulders.

"Lead the way," He told Dean standing and grabbing the deer's limp hoofs so it would not fall as he walked.

Sam smiled a stupidly large grin, revealed he didn't have the haul the animal back. He took the lead, Dean following, and Lucifer trailing with slow, deliberate steps so he did not trip. Lucifer estimated by the buck's weight and antler length the animal was two or three years old. He knew that for the boys, this was a good kill. It would bring them good money and food. He was constantly impressed at humans resourcefulness, never wasting anything. They would eat the meat, use the skin to keep warm, they even used the bone as supplements to wood. Lucifer was much more fond of these humans than the one who served Lilith.

It wasn't a long walk back to the edge of the forest. Lucifer gently set the animal on the ground, not wanting to break bone or bruise the meat. Sam looked at the remaining distance between the Winchester house and the woods.

"I wish you could come in town with us, Luci." Sam wined.

Dean quirked an eyebrow at the nickname. "It's okay Sammy, I like the woods better anyway." Lucifer ruffled Sam's hair. He was short for the summer heat, but still long enough for messy tufts the stick out at unruly angles.

The younger boy crossed his arms over his chest, trying to mimic his father when he was angry. "My name is Sam." He pouted.

Lucifer copied the boy, folding his arms over a half clad chest, "And my name is Lucifer." He was a good foot and half taller than the youngest Winchester and his smirk was so on point it could kill a man. Sam folded under his gaze, trotting into the woods to find a tree branch so he and Dean could carry the buck the rest of the way home. "Dean, um" He cleared his throat, "I believe I have something of yours."

He pulled the blade out of his pocket, offering the handle to Dean. The hunter's eyes widened, greedily taking the from Lucifer's hand. "Where did you find this?"

"I may have..." He rubbed he hand against the back of his neck, "I may have had it the whole time. Look, I just wanted to test something."

"Like how I killed a vampire with it?" Dean asked. "I have no idea how that happened, but I asked my dad where he got the knife. He said he had just bought it from a traveling merchant, nothing special. So maybe it was just a lucky fluke?"

Lucifer nodded as Sam returned with a thick, long branch similar to the one he had earlier. Dean slid the knife into he belt so he could help his brother. The two worked together to lift the buck using the stick. Each placed an end on a shoulder with the deer hanging by its feet in the middle. Dean walked in front leading his brother and the deer toward their house.

"Bye Luci!" Sam called.

Lucifer smiled, still hidden by the trees. He could deal with just one person calling him that awful nickname.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mkay, sorry this chapter is a bit uneventful but it is like MAJOR foreshadowing. so just remember that.   
> I love you all.


	9. Lies

"Hey Sam."

Sam looked over his shoulder at the quite voice behind him. A meek Jess stood behind him in the dusty main road. Sam felt a bead of sweat roll down the back of his neck that had nothing to do with the late summer heat.

"H-hi Jess," Sam stammered out. "What are you doing here?"

Jess tossed her long blond hair over her shoulder. It was in its normal style, a single braid going down her back with bits of ribbon and wild flowers braided into it. Sam had a small collection of flowers that had fallen out of her hair in his room. Sometimes at night when he couldn't sleep he'd drag them out from their hiding place under the bed and smell them; thinking of Jess and her cornflower blue eyes.

"I was just here with my mom, and I thought I'd say hi," she nodded further up the street. Sam unwilling tore his eyes from Jess to see her mother at the stall of another vender. "Well I should be getting back. Nice seeing you!"

"Bye!" Sam croaked out, watching Jess's gold hair disappear into the crowded street of their town's market.

Sam sighed turning back the stand of homemade soap he had been looking at earlier. The old man running the stand smiled sympathetically at him. "If you want to impress her, try this." The man handed Sam a bar of soap the smelt like wild flowers and honey. Sam inhaled the sent, loving the sweet smell but he set the soap down back on the table. Instead he grabbed a bar of light pink and white soap from a basket labeled Anise.

"Sorry I can't, but I'll take this."

The man raised an eyebrow, "Are you a hunter?"

"Um, yeah. My brother and dad think using this soap helps keep the animals from smelling us." Sam shrugged, handing the man money to pay. "I don't think it really matters but it smells okay so whatever."

"Well you be careful out there. I heard there are all sorts of monsters out there in the woods. I even heard a rumor there is a flock of angels living just on the edge of the forest. They may look pretty, but they're vicious."

"Alright, I'll be careful," Sam faked a smile at the old man, making a mental note to warn the angels to be more cautious.

Sam set off down the busy street running over the mental list of things his family needed. He had gotten their weekly supply of mixed vegetables and he even managed to get few fruits that were on sale because they were on the verge of spoiling. He had picked up a replacement wet stone for sharpening knives; their old one was a mere sliver of rough stone worn down from over use. Sam had bought a ball of thick braided string to be used for setting snares and various other things. Looking up from his basket Sam knew he still need a handful of items, like thread and spare cloth patches for mending holes in their clothing.

"Heya Sammy," a large hand smacked him across the back hard enough to send him stumbling forward a few steps before regaining his balance.

"Garth," Sam coughed struggling to regain his breath. "What was that for?"

"It was the payment for the last bet you won." Garth said his mouth full of an apple he had snatched from Sam basket. Sam eyes the fruit for a moment, deciding whether or not to try to steal the fruit back. He decided against it. "Just kidding, I got you this." Garth held out one of his spindly hands, in the palm of it was a small wooden cylinder.

"What's this?" Sam asked taking the thing into his own hands, examining it.

"It's a whistle, so you can do this," Garth put two fingers to his lips and blew out a long breath that sounded sharp, like a crying squirrel. A few people in the market stopped and looked over in the pair's direction.

Sam put the whistle to his lips and blew into it lightly; a softer, quieter version of Garth's whistle came out. "This is pretty cool, but what do I use it for?" Sam asked.

"Ah young naïve Sam," His eyes bright with enthusiasm, "there are endless possibilities! I know you like hunting-"

"I don't like it, I have to hunt."

"Whatever, say you're out I the woods and you injure yourself and can't move. You can blow the whistle, until someone finds you. It's much loader than your voice and your voice would go horse before the whistle stopped working. Or with a little practice you could mimic bird calls. You could also use it as a signal when you're standing under Jess's window-"

"Garth!" Sam punched his friend's boney arm though his too big jacket.

"Ow! Hey I just think you two would be a cute couple. I see you looking at her, and she looks at you too you know."

"Really!?"

Garth smirked; proud he had finally ensnared his friend in his trap. "Of course she does, all the time in school when she's not looking at the board."

Sam's smile faded. Garth had stopped going to school four years ago, he couldn't have known whether or not Jess looked at him. "Jerk." Sam cried as he tried to swing at his friend again, but Garth danced his thin frame out of Sam's reach.

Garth laughed at his friend's halfhearted attempts, "Alright Sam, where to?" He asked, resuming eating his stolen apple.

"I'm going to get spare clothing scraps, you can get lo-"

"Great, I haven't seen Charlie in ages. To the Bradberry shop!" With that, Garth melted into the throng of people, his gangly body easily slipping though people.

Sam sighed, watching his weirdest friend motion for him to follow. He picked up his pace, trying to politely move through the busy market as fast as he could. Garth had no such regard, shoving though groups and knocking things over. He acts like he was raised in a barn, Sam thought. Which he, not so surprisingly, actually was. Garth and his older cousin had been living in the loft of Thompson's barn since he was six, but somehow they always managed to get by. Granted Garth was underfed, he was always skinner than either Dean or Sam had been even in their worst winters, but he was happy and he had a knack for getting what he wanted. He's been caught stealing four or five time but by Sam's account that was a pretty good record. There were times when Dean or his father had tried to tell him to stay away from Garth because he was a bad influence, but Sam never really listened. Garth was fourteen, three years older than Sam, and he was parentless with a cousin that was only there half the time. He stole out of necessity and never took more than he needed. Garth was a good kid, Sam knew he wasn't a bad influence.

"Took you long enough," Garth joked. He was leaning against the door from of the Bradberry Clothing Emporium. He opened the door, a bell signaling their arrival, and gesturing for Sam to enter first.

…

"So how have things been with you and Lisa?" Dean asked. He sat the Bradberry's kitchen table drinking a mug of tea and counting his money. He had just sold a stock of various animal meat and hides to the Bradberrys.

"Oh my God, it's been wonderful! She made me this for our two month anniversary." Charlie returned to the kitchen from putting the animal hides up and sat down at the table next to Dean. She extended her right hand for Dean to see; on her index finger there was a chunky brass ring.

"That was sweet of her."

"I know," Charlie sighed love struck. "And we even kissed! I owe you Dean Winchester."

Dean laughed at his friend's enthusiasm. He knew Charlie had never been in a relationship before and he was enjoying every moment of her happiness. "I didn't make her like you, I just told lisa you were interested-" A bell sounded from downstairs cutting Dean off.

Charlie moaned before getting up a jogging down the stair separating her home from the family store. Dean stood and scooped the coins off the table and into his pocket and poured the remainder of his tea in the sink. He turned on the faucet to wash his mug and set it onto the counter to dry. The Bradberrys were a well off family, it only being Charlie and her two parents. Their home was luxurious, filled with extravagances most people in their small town couldn't even dream of having. Dean's favorite of these was thickly carpeted floors, electricity, and running water. When he was little he'd listen wide eyed to the men at the local pub tell about how in demon run cities everyone had these commodities and more.

The Bradberrys had made their small fortune by selling fairly priced clothing and raw fabric. Dean was in semi-shock at seeing his brother and his odd ball friend Garth standing in the shop front. He knew neither of the boys could afford anything in the shop. Yet here Garth stood harassing Charlie, per usual of the two.

"Aw come on Charlie, I think you and Kyler would make a good couple," Garth said, he had Charlie cornered in between two clothing racks. Sam stood by awkwardly, obviously unsure of what to do.

"Garth, I don't want to date you're creepy cousin. Besides I bet he's dead. He's been in the woods a month and the angels probably got to him by now." Charlie tried shoving passed Garth but he wouldn't budge.

Dean stood directly behind Garth, arms crossed over his chest, loudly cleared his throat. Garth turned and jumped at the sight of the older Winchester. Dean had a year, five inches in height, and thirty pounds on Garth; he could easily pummel the kid. "I think you should leave now." Dean's voice rumbled out of his chest like thunder.

Garth's eyes skirted from Dean to Sam to the door then back to Dean. "Alright, Sam you commin'?" He tried to make his voice light and cheery. Sam shook his head "no" before Garth sighed and trudged out the front door, making the bell chime again.

"Thanks," Charlie breathed. "That kid creeps me out."

"Charlie, what were you saying about angels?" Sam asked.

"What? Oh well nothing really. I was trying to scare Garth."

Dean had caught Charlie's motion as well and began interrogating her alone with Sam. "So you were lying to him?"

"Well not exactly, I mean I've never seen angels myself but my father came home swearing up and down last week that he saw a pair of gray wings flying through the trees that were too big to belong to anything else." She looked at the brother exchange glances. "Why? Have you two been seeing angels as well?"

"No, no," Dean started, unsure of how to finish his lie. "I just don't understand why it would be bad if there was a flock hanging around here. They seem nice."

Charlie started laughing so hard she had to grip the clothing rack next to her to keep her balance. "Dean Winchester, I knew you didn't pay attention in school," she wiped a tear from her eye, "but I thought you'd at least know what could kill you. Any supernatural book will tell you angels are some of the most brutal monsters. Sure they look human, but they are incapable of remorse and will rip you apart with a smile."


	10. Mating Season

"Sam, you know what Charlie said isn't true right?" Dean asked. His little brother had been unnervingly quite during the last two hours of the boys hunt.

"So what? Yesterday she was lying to us? Charlie doesn't lie Dean." Sam spat back.

Dean sighed. This was the beginning of a weekend hunting trip and the last thing he wanted was to fight with his brother. "I'm not saying she was lying, she just wasn't telling the truth. Angels are good."

"But monster books say-"

"Monster books are written by demons." Dean cut him off. "They say demons aren't bad, but you remember last time the Governor's men came to collect taxes?"

Sam shivered at the memory of the demons staying in town. They hung around their small village for almost two weeks last autumn, collecting taxes, harassing everyone, even torturing and killing a handful of people. It had been two weeks of hell.

"Alright," Sam mumbled, kicking a rock into weak running water of the stream that wove back and forth across their mountain. Sam began crossing the dying river to continue on their normal trail.

Dean relaxed, following his brother, artfully choosing rocks so his feet would stay dry. "Good, now I'm sure angels can be aggressive and cruel," a quick flashback of Dean and Lucifer first meeting came to mind, "but I bet they have to be provoked. Like if you threaten them or- Sammy be careful!"

Dean's warning was to late a Sam slipped on the water and mud slick rocks on the river's edge. The youngest Winchester cried out in pain as his bottom landed in the shallow water. Dean rushed over to his brother pulling him out of the murky water and to the river bed. He did a quick check of his brother finding his only injury was a gash slicing across his right palm.

"It's okay Sammy, you're gonna be okay." Dean cooed to his shocked brother.

Dean poured pure water from his water skin over Sam's cut washing off bit of filth that clung to Sam's skin. Sam attempted to wiggle his fingers to make sure they were still in working order but a burning pain stopped him. He bit his lip trying to stifle a cry of pain but it still came out in an audible whimper. Dean had started to remove the scraps of bandages he carried with him when he heard the snapping of tree branches to his left.

"Who's there?" Dean demanded brandishing his knife. He stood in between Sam and the noise, protecting his injured little brother.

A handful of other branches buckled and cracked before Castiel fell from the tree in a way that was anything but graceful. He landed in a heap, hastily standing to reveal his black hair and wings were ruffled and full of pine needles from the tree he had just been in. His face was stretched into a wide grin, dirt smudged on his weathered skin making him look paler than usual.

"Hi Dean, hi Sam," he began casually walking over to the pair, oblivious to Dean's defensive stance.

Dean sheathed his knife back in his belt, knowing Cas wasn't a threat. "So Cas-" Dean stopped in surprise was Cas wrapped his arms around Dean in a hug. He stood ridged for a moment, looking back at his brother. Sam sat open mouthed on the ground. Dean tentatively put his arms around Cas's shoulder's, returning the hug. He held the hug a few minutes, and relesed his hold on Cas. Cas did not follow. Dean tried patting Cas on the back signaling for his release. "Um Cas, personal space?"

Castiel let go, his face in a dopy smile. "How have you been Dean?" Castiel dropped his gaze to Sam, noticing the blood trickling down his wrist. "Sam, you hurt?"

"Oh it's nothing I'll be fine." Sam assured Cas.

"I can fix," He offered, taking Sam's hand.

Cas sat down next to Sam and wiped the blood away from the wound as best as he could. He wetted his right palm with his tongue and pressed to Sam's hand like he was about to shake his hand.

"Ew, Cas!" Sam cried trying to yank his hand away.

"Stop, it's part of healing," He licked his hand again, cringing at the metallic taste of Sam's blood, and placed it on the cut again. "It cleans cut."

"Like pouring alcohol on it?" Dean asked.

"Think so," Castiel answered uncertainly.

Castiel didn't know what alcohol was but he faintly remembered Michael mentioning it when he taught him who to heal people. Castiel began chanting the Enochian healing spell he had been taught. It seemed strange to think of Enochian as a language he had been taught, rather one that had been in his very blood. He was learning it quicker than English, often spitting words or entire sentences Michael or Lucifer had yet to teach him. English was much harder, he had been continually working on it for almost six months now but Enochian was natural. Cas removed his hand to reveal pale scar tissue in place of the bloody gash.

"Wicked," Sam marveled, the setting sun hitting his wide eyes making then look more golden than hazel.

**…**

"Where are Gabriel and Anna?" Dean questioned.

In the late evening Cas had offered them a place to sleep for than night, the boys eagerly agreed. Now with the full moon over head, they sat around a fire with Michael, Lucifer, and Cas.

"It's mating season," Lucifer stated. "They wanted to be alone." A smirk crept up his face, making his aztec blue eyes sparkle in the dancing fire light.

"You have a season?" Dean was shocked at how blunt Lucifer was.

"We're animals, aren't we?" A small note of dry humor in Lucifer's voice.

"Just because you aren't human, doesn't mean you aren't people." Sam mumbled. He sat curled up in Lucifer's lap. Despite the fact it was July; temperatures still plunged at night making a drowsy Sam snuggle into Lucifer's warmer body.

Michael let a small smile tug at his lips across the fire. Sam's kind manner never ceased to lighten the angel's heart. It wasn't longer before Sam dropped off into sleep wrapped in Lucifer's protective arms. Michael shifted his gaze to the other pair next to him, Castiel and Dean. Dean sat with his back against a log and an arm wrapped around Castiel. Castiel appeared to be asleep, his eyes closed and his breathing shallow and even as he his head rested on Dean's shoulder. Dean's had drifted off as well, his head resting on Castiel's.


	11. Winter

Dean wrapped his hands around the ceramic mug of coffee that was placed in front of him. He brought the cup to his mouth, taking a sip of the bitter, warm liquid. It was scalding, but still a welcome change from the biting cold of winter that surrounded the town now. He looked up to meet the eyes of his server was the coffee made its way to his stomach. The drink burned the lining of his stomach and not from its heat.

"How's the coffee?" Ellen asked. "I made it just the way you like."

Dean took another gulp from his mug, this time rolling the drink mix around in his mouth trying to pick out the taste of the whiskey Ellen no doubt put in it. "It great Ellen, a little strong though."

"Well you gotta have something to keep you warm out there. Just don't tell your daddy I'm givin' it to ya'. Last thing I need is John Winchester on my ass."

Ellen patted Dean on the shoulder before leaving to attend to other patrons in her bar. It was snowy Wednesday in the middle of winter so the bar was occupied by only a hand few of other patrons. Most of them were men looking for refuge from the cold and a drink. That was exactly what Dean was doing as well. It was snowing, which made hunting difficulty to impossible and it was too cold to simply stay home while Sammy was at school and his father working. So now here he sat at the Roadhouse, their town's only tavern, enjoying his whiskey and coffee concoction as well as his view of Jo.

She sat behind the bar high top looking intently at the glass in her hand she was cleaning. She raised her damp cleaning rag to circle the inside of the glass, wiping all the nasty bits and last drops of alcohol out. She moved the rag to the glasses rim, wiping away lip prints and then to the outer surface cleansing it of finger prints. Squinting in the dim light as she inspected the glass one last time and, satisfied with her work, put it on the counter. She reached for the next glass in line, repeating the process.

Dean had always liked Jo a bit more than a friendly way. He liked the way her dirty blond hair framed her face and how her lips always wore a smile without her knowing. He liked how her arms and hands were slender but still strong and the way her body molded to her when they hugged. He liked the fact that her almond eyes were always wide and her eyebrows raised like the world kept surprising her. But now all of that attraction seemed to have vanished. Jo wore her hair in a high pony tail making her face look harsh with her eyes intent on the glass she was cleaning. Her mouth was puckered and her eyebrows furrowed; in this moment she had lost all her young charm she used to hold over Dean.

In one large gulp Dean downed what was left of his drink, wincing as the alcohol burned his stomach again. He carefully counted out the money he owed for the drink and put next to his mug. He grabbed his father's leather jacket from the back of his chair and slung it over his shoulders, making his way towards the door. A bell chimed over head as he opened it to leave, he glanced over his shoulders a final time before leaving. Ellen was stoking the fire, coaxing it into accepting the log she had just put on the burn. Jo sat, still behind the bar, cleaning. She offered up as small smile, seeing Dean look at her. A smile, Dean did not return.

**...**

The frigid weather cut through Dean's layered clothing like a knife. He had zipped up his jacket all the way so it covered the bottom of his chin and he had his gloved hands in his pockets. He could feel the slight wetness of melting snowing seeping through his wool cap and into his hair along with his shins rubbing against the damp fabric of his trouser. Dean's only saving grace about trudging through knee deep snow in the middle of the forest was that there was no wind. He wondered without a specific destination in mind; not worried about getting lost because he was leaving quite a trail in snow. He only knew that he needed to find Castiel.

"Dean," A voice called from a tree.

Dean scanned the trees near where the voice had come from. He easily picked out Gabriel's bronze wings glazed lightly with snow. "H-hey," Dean's teeth chattered making speech difficult. "I was lo-looking for-r Cas."

Gabriel began climbing down through the trees branches. It was difficult for the angels to fly when it was snowy, so they most just stuck to walking. "He's with the others. I can take you to them. I was just getting Anna pinecones; recently she's been craving them."

Dean nodded, his jaw chattering too hard for him to speak. Gabriel acted as an ice breaker, walking ahead of Dean and breaking the snow bank to make walking easier. Gabriel followed a faint impression in the snow from what must have been his earlier walk rout. One of the things Dean found most impressive about angels was how resilient they were to the weather. Like right now it was below freezing and Gabriel was walking around nothing more than his normal pair of shredded pants. He wasn't shivering like Dean either, he just simply wasn't cold.

It wasn't a long walk back to the rest of the group. They had moved their home camp from the small clearing to a shallow cave for the winter. Past the mouth of the cave Dean could see a small fire going inside, the smoke trickling out and getting lost in the whiteness of the sky. From the fire light Dean could also make out Michael and Lucifer sitting together as well as Cas poking at the fire with a stick. Anna had run out of the cave towards the reproaching duo, the ends of her long black coat dragging across the snow.

"Gabriel," She cried, stopping a few feet short of him. "Did you get them?"

Gabriel held out a small bag. Anna took it reaching in and pulling of a small pinecone and happily biting into it using her molars. She moaned in pleasure at the pinecone's taste. Dean gagged a bit; he was never one for raw pinecones. Anna heard him and looked over towards him a little bewildered. Dean had to let out a smile before Anna's memory clicked into place.

"Sam," She cried running over to hug him. Dean had to rotate slightly to the side to avoid her swollen belly.

"Close, I'm Dean," Dean huffed out through Anna's suffocation embrace. Anna had become very forgetful lately; Michael guessed it was because of her hormones acting up.

Anna pulled away to study his face. Her eyes filled with realization again as her mouth formed into a soft  _Oh._  Dean chuckled at Anna's behavior as Gabriel led Anna back to the cave, giving her another pinecone. Dean stood and watched as Anna walked through the snow with her one hand on her pregnant belly and the other held by Gabriel. The coat Gabriel made her wear dragged over the snow drifts like it was attempting to smooth out her foot prints. But Dean followed her trail, destroying the coat's effort. Anna and Gabriel ducked into the low entrance to the cave, seating themselves on the stone ground. Dean hung a hand on the lip of the cave, hunching over so he could just peer in.

"Hey, Cas can I talk to you for a moment?" Dean asked, the cold seemed so insignificant now compared to the nervous energy coiled up in his stomach.

Cas scrambled to stand up, "Yes, of course." Dean led Cas a few yards away from the cave, just out of ear shot of the others.

"I just wanted to say that I choose…" he licked his lips immediately regretting it, as the dry air chapped his lips further, "I choose you. I want you, Castiel."

Cas's eyes widened and his mouth dropped open. Dean suddenly had the crashing realization that maybe Cas didn't want him. Maybe he didn't even like Dean like that at all. Maybe what Dean had mistaken for flirtatious attitude was really just something angels did with close friends. Dean took a step back, horrified that must have just destroyed his most treasured friendship.

Then Castiel did something unexpected. He lunched forward wrapping his arms around Dean and pulling his close. Dean tensed up, feeling Castiel's heat radiated through his jacket from Cas's body held impossibly close to his. Cas caught Dean's gaze, his blue eyes wild. Cas leaned in, closing the small gap between their two faces and planted his lips softly on Dean's.

"I choose you, Dean Winchester."


	12. The Governor

The room was dark, its only light filtering in through the dirty glass of a barred window. But now the sun was setting and only enough light to make out the silhouette of the three men in the musty, stone room. One lay on his back, arms and half plucked wings strapped to the table below him. He blinked his eyes rapidly trying to stay awake because he knew if he blacked out the whole process would be repeated tomorrow. The coppery stench of his blood filled his nostrils forcing him swallow back his vomit. Through the blood loss induced ringing in his ears he could hear the water from the sink on the far side of the room stop. He flinched was the man at the sink turned on his heels to face him again. He held newly washed knife in clean hands. The angel let out a small whimper as the approached him again, blood still on the man's face from earlier.

"Now, pet, do you promise to behave?" He asked his accented voice silky and rough at the same time.

The angel violently shook his head  _yes,_ his voice too raw from earlier screaming. The demon slipped the razor back into the belt in his leather apron, much to the angel's relief. He pulled out a leather collar and a set of keys from a different pocket in the apron of terror. He walked over to the third silent figure standing just next to the door and handed them to him.

"Kevin, clean this thing up and put its collar back on. Then lock it in the punishment room; no food." The demon ordered, untying and hanging up his apron. "When you're done, meet me in my room."

"Yes Master Crowley," Kevin mumbled.

Crowley let a smirk play on his face before opening the solid wooden door and leaving Kevin alone with the angel. Kevin put the collar down on a counter before rummaging through one the cabinets next to the sink. He soon found what he was looking for, a medical kit. This was a torture room but it was still fully stocked with everything Kevin would need to patch on this poor creature. He rifled through the kit, first grabbing out bottle of hydrogen peroxide and gauze to clean the wounds. He folded the gauze up into a thick square and wetted it with the hydrogen peroxide.

"Okay, this is going to sting a little," Kevin warned.

He had just witnessed Crowley shred this man skin and he felt awful knowing he was only going to cause him further pain. The angel winced and moaned a little when the wet cloth met the first of his injuries on his chest, but other than that he was very quiet. Kevin moved his hands carefully over the angel's body, gently dabbing at all the cut and scraps he had attained. Kevin next moved onto the surgical sewing kit. He was sad to say he moved with practiced precision stitching up a handful of deep gashes on the angel's torso and legs. This this time the angel didn't move at all. Lastly the easy part, bandages. Kevin peeled the packaging away from the large adhesive band-aids. He wrapped some of the remaining gauze around the nicks in the angel's wings. He was only glad Crowley hadn't boken any bones this time, Kevin was awfyl when it came to resetting bone.

Breathing heavily Kevin washed his bloodied hands in the same sink Crowley had. He told himself over and over he was not like Crowley, he was fixing the angel. But the over whelming guilt of knowing he had pained the creature still plagued him. He turned to the counter where the collar and keys still sat and grabbed them.

He put the collar on first, latching it closed on the back of the angel's neck. A small brass plaque in the front of the collar read  _Gadreel_. Kevin went about unlocking the various restraints that kept the angel tethered to the table. He undid the final one over Gadreel's waist and helped the angel to his feet. He half walked, half carried the much larger angel to the door and down the hall way into a bare, padded room. Kevin laid the angel on the floor, his back resting against the cushioned wall.

"Crowley said no food, but I'll still get you a glass of water."

Kevin turned to leave but Gadreel caught his elbow. He licked his chapped lips lowly, leaving a coat of spit and blood, before he spoke. "Thank… you."

**…**

"Alright boys, what do you have for me today?" Crowley asked throwing open the doors to his conference room.

The ten demons waiting for him stood to attention. They all shuffled through their folders and brief cases looking for papers to show their boss.

"The human population has increased 15% in your region, sir."

"Good," Crowley swallowed a mouth full of his bourbon, "lower the taxes 3%, I'm feeling generous."

One of the demons began scribbling down a note. He dashed out to the room to let everyone know about the tax adjustment.

"What else?"

"We've gather more information on the angel flock, sir." A blond demon stated.

"Really? Do tell," Crowley said seating himself at the head of the table in a plush leather chair.

The female demon walk up to him and handed him six packets of stapled paper. Crowley browsed through them, stopping to look mostly at the far away snapshots of the angels.

"We know there are six of them, sir, two females and four males. We also believe the three older males once belonged to Lilith, due to cross referencing their appearances with information already in the system. And-"

"I don't want those three." Crowley cut her off.

He knew he was no match for Lilith. She held much more government power over him and her region was larger, making her richer. If he was going to expend money to capture angels he didn't want them yanked away from him because they were already owned by someone.

"Well, sir, the other male and the females don't match anything in the system and we've studied them long enough to come to the conclusion they are wild."

Crowley leafed through the packet in his hand, seeing it was mostly photos and facts about the young fledgling angel. He put the packet down on the table, pointing to a photo of the young girl. "Tell me about this one."

The woman squinted to see the photo for a second before starting one of her rehearsed speeches. "She is the daughter of the female and one of the males owned by Lilith," she paused for a second to find a picture of the father for Crowley. "she's almost three years old now and she can't fly yet."

Crowley stared at the photo of the pretty young angel with dark blond hair and burgundy wings another moment before his eyes moved to another angel. This one had bright blue eyes that contrasted his charcoal wings and hair. This particular photo looked like it had been snapped right before he was about to laugh.

"I want this one," He pointed to the black winged angel, "and the fledgling. The child's mother too if you can manage it, but she's not necessary." He pushed the packets back towards the she-demon that had given them to him. "Next order of business. Darwin, how's the truce with Azazel going? I want-"

"One more thing sir," The demon bit her lip, regretting interrupting her boss.

Crowley rolled his eyes, "What?"

"This angel," she meant the black winged one, "is mated with a human. We've seen them together and we looked him up. His name is Dean Winchester and he lives in the village by the angel's forest." She flipped through the packet to show Crowley a picture of the boy.

Crowley mulled over the thought for a moment, looking at the boy's bottle green eyes. He had quite a pretty face; one Crowley wouldn't mind seeing every day. And he had found out with Gadreel that angels behave better when they are happy. But the behave especially well if you have their mate held hostage. He flicked his eyes down, reading the boy's personal information. He had a brother and father, a deceased mother. A handful of other unimportant things, like schooling and profession, was lister but Crowley had already made up his mind.

"Alright, I'll take the boy too. Happy angel, better product, happy Crowley. It really works out well for everyone."


	13. Flight

Dean took another step up hill, feeling the burn in his calves. He and Castiel had been hiking through the mountainous woods for almost two hours now. The trail Cas had lead Dean on started out easy, almost flat making large S's through the woods. Now it had turned into a steep incline, the trail rugged and rocky. Dean's feet were achy and sore in his thick soled boots; he could only imagine how Cas felt going bare foot. As if on cue the angel's step faltered causing him the flail is wings wildly trying to regain his balance.

"Woah, woah there Cas. Let's just take a break." Dean suggested taking hold of Cas's arms and sitting him down on a bolder in the trail side.

Cas took a sip from the water skin Dean had lent him. "Sorry, I just haven't come here up by foot in a few years." Cas breathed. His forehead was covered in a light sweat even though the spring air was cool.

"It's okay Cas, but can you at least tell me where we're going?" Dean splashed a rag from his pack into the thin river running by the trail. He put the damp fabric to the back of his neck, sighing at the cooling sensation.

"I told you, it's a surprise," Cas winked.

Dean huffed in annoyance, this surprise better be worth a two hour hike. "Fine, are we at least close?"

"Almost there."

Dean moaned, that's what Cas said an hour ago. The pair stood and continued trekking up the mountain. The trial relentlessly only became steeper, curving sharply into a Z shaped switch back several times, before turning into an all-out rock climb up sheer, natural stone steps. Cas expertly placed his feet on the stable flat tops, even grabbing at a natural hand rail the cliff formed. Dean had to force his breathing to stay steady, the height making his dizzy, as he followed Castiel's lead. The height of the last step was almost three times greater and any of the other ones. Cas stood in front of it, the level top even with his chest, and placed both of his hands palm down on the smooth top. Using all his remaining arm strength, a small jump, and flapping his wings for good measure, he hoisted himself up and onto the alcove top destinstion. Dean stood at the step's base knowing he didn't have the energy to climb it like Cas had.

"Here," Cas thrust out his hand and Dean took it without hesitation. "Okay on the count of three. One… three!" Cas yelled.

Dean jumped and heaved himself up with is left arm as Cas tugged at the right. Dean landed gracelessly on the ground next to Cas. Both boys were panting shamelessly, sucking in air trying to quell their heart rates.

Dean was the first to move, hearing the trickle of water that was most defiantly louder than the stream next to the trail earlier. He rolled over onto his stomach and with shaky arms and legs, stood. He was met with the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. There were two weak waterfalls trickling through dense vegetation that hung from the little cliff's edge. The waterfalls fell into a deep pool that was unnaturally blue. Dean gasped realizing the water was almost the exact same shad as Cas's eyes. The whole thing was framed by the new green leaves growing on trees nearby.

"It's pretty isn't it," Cas said looking at Dean.

Dean could only nod, still over taken with the place's beauty. After a minute he finally tore his gaze away from the water and looked at Cas who was still sitting.

"How did you find this place?" He asked seating himself next to his mate.

"I didn't, my parents showed it to me. It was part of a fledgling rite of passage. I hiked up here then jumped off that cliff and flew down."

Dean's eyes widened at how nonchalantly Cas had said that. "So your parents threw you off a cliff and hoped you'd fly before you hit the ground?"

Cas let out a little laugh, "No, it's not like that. Learning to fly proficiently takes a long time. First my mother taught me the motions of flying down there. Then we all came up here and I watched my parents and Gabriel run off the cliff and glide around before landing back on here, but I didn't fly that day. And between you and me I was too scared to. Next came more practice down on normal ground, like flapping my wings or jumping out of trees, but I never really  _flew_. It's very hard for fledglings to just take flight like you're used to seeing me do. But finally after almost a year of practice Gabriel thought I was ready we hiked up here and I glided to the ground. After a fledgling completes their first successful flight they're no longer a fledgling, so I was a considered a full angel then."

Dean was shocked at Castiel's story. He knew angel's had a few different traditions and customs than humans, like how Gabriel was the only one who was allowed to see Anna for a week after she had giving birth to their daughter, but none of them had been explained to him in the detail Cas just had.

"How old were you?" Dean asked.

Cas scrunched his face in thought. "Five or six I think? You have to wait for regular feathers to replace fledgling down feathers."

"Wow," Dean remembered when he was five and six he was just playing hopscotch at school while Cas was learning to fly.

"And now it's your turn to learn," Cas hopped up, wiping his hands on his pants.

"What? Cas, in case you haven't noticed I don't have wings."

"I know, but I do and I can carry you-"

Dean peered over the edge of the stark cliff, his vision going a little fuzzy. "Oh no! I hate heights. What if you drop me?"

"Come on Dean, you brought the rope I asked for right?" Cas fished around Dean's bag finding it. "I'll hold onto you with my arms and we can tie our waists together with this for good measure."

Cas looked at Dean with puppy eyes until Dean finally gave in. He stood still with his back against Cas's chest. Cas wrapped the thick rope around both of them several times, ending with tying a knot with the two rope ends. The conjoined pair awkwardly shuffled over to the edge of the cliff, Dean being able to see led the way. Cas spread his wings and wrapped his arms over Dean's chest, latching his fingers into the grooves of Dean's ribs. Cas flapped his wings once, twice before a pressing realization hit Dean. He was at least two inches taller than Cas and weight as much as or more than Cas. It wasn't logically possible for Cas to fly successfully holding him.

"Cas, Cas stop! We're going to die if you do this!" Dean was thrashing in Cas's arms but he couldn't get very far due to the rope tying them together.

"Hey, calm down." Cas kissed Dean's neck gently causing Dean to turn his head and meet his pretty green eyes. "Do you trust me?"

Dean sucked in a deep breath. He stared into Cas's deep blue eyes, they were so calm and full of confidence. "Yes, I trust you."

Cas nodded tightening his grip on Dean again and inching closer to the cliff's edge. Dean screwed his eyes shut, unwilling to look down at the sheer drop. Blind, Dean felt the momentum of Cas leaning forward over the edge and the rush of wind as the tethered pair plummeted towards Earth. There was an abrupt jerk  _up_  as Cas opened his wings. Dean could hear him make a low grunting noise over the sound of wind rushing by his ears. Dean felt Cas's shoulders rising and falling with the beat of his wings. He willed his eyes open just a crack and the new green of spring leaves on tree far blow on the ground. The cold numbness of fear bubbled its way up Dean's stomach, but it was stopped by the warmth of Cas's hands wrapped tightly around his chest. Dean carefully turned his head to look at Cas. His face was scrunched up in concentration, most of that faded away into a smile when their eyes met. Dean turned away look back down at the horizon. The sky was impossibly blue, dotted with white splotched of clouds. He could see the rolling slope of the mountain they had just climbed and its surrounding brethren carpeted with lush green of pine and aspens. There was a grayish clearing tucked in a valley that he knew was his village. He could make up a break in the trees from the river that snaked through the valleys. In his peripheral vision the tips of Cas's wings danced in and out of sight. He felt so absolutely and totally free.

He understood immediately in that moment why Gabriel, Lucifer, and Michael hated being owned. It was because angels are free, wild creatures and it should be a sin to cage them. He knew why Castiel and Anna were so cheerful and happy. He finally knew the reason for the untamed gleam that was in Cas's eyes.

He forced his arms away from his body and worked his fingers out of their fight clenched fists. He spread his arms out like wings, feeling Cas's brush against the back of his forearms every now and then. He let a laugh erupt from his diaphragm and bubble out through his lips as they descended through the trees. Cas tilted one of his wings down, causing them to make a gentle curve around a bank of trees, heading for a clear area by the river. Cas flattened his wings attempting to slow them as they approached the ground at an alarmingly fast speed. Dean's extra weight was throwing off his normal landing routine. He flapped his wings twice bringing them vertical so they were on their feet when they hit ground.

The landing impact hit Dean's knees like a bullet. They stumbled forward still attached to each other by the rope bound around their hips. Had it just been Cas by himself he could have recovered and shrugged it off as  _almost bad._ But conjoined they managed one jumbled step each before tumbling to the ground rolling with momentum on top of each other.

"That went well," Cas mumbled. He was laying on top of Dean with bits of leaves and dirt in his already messy black hair.

"Cas, that was amazing!" Dean exclaimed.

Dean lifted his head up and closed the mere inches that separated their lips. Cas stiffened at first in surprise, but quickly recovered moving his lips against Dean's. Dean shifted his weight to roll on top of Cas, but he was stopped mid-motion by the rope still holding them together.

"Let's get this off," Dean hissed.

With shaking fingers Cas picked at the earlier knot he had tied, eventually undoing it. Dean finally moved so he was sitting on top if Cas, careful to stay on his hips so the angel's wings wouldn't get crushed. He leaned down to kiss Cas again. Moving to his jawline and trailing kisses down his neck.

"This is like when we first met," Cas's voice was breathy, his heart racing.

Dean nuzzled his nose into Cas's neck. "But I like this way better."

He grabbed Cas's fore arms and pinned them to the ground above his head. Dean put weight on his arms so he was effectively leaning all the way over Cas, their torso's almost touching. The intimate moment was cut short by the careless pounding of little feet across the forest floor.

"Dean! Dean!" The little girl cried her chubby childish feet slapping against the muddy river bank.

"Molly," Dean said trying to mask his annoyance at her bad timing.

The toddler ran over to the two, oblivious to the moment she interrupted. Dean stood up from on top of Cas in time to catch the little angel as she jumped into his arms. She was very light but he still struggle to hold her as she squirmed in his arms, her downy burgundy wings flapping wildly.

"There you are," Anna called. She appeared on the other side of the river where Molly had. "We've been looking for you two."

"We said we were going on a hike."

"I wanted to see you," Molly moaned wrapping her strong little arms around Dean's neck. "Where didcha go?"

"I took Dean to the Blue Water and we flew down." Cas said proudly.

Anna raised her eye brows in question while Molly wiggled in Dean's arms. "Wanna fly! Wanna fly!" She chanted flapping her wings uselessly.

"Not yet little one," Anna told her daughter, take her from Dean. "Give it another year or two."

Molly huffed, throwing dirty blond hair into her face. She wiggled and twitched until Anna put her down and then she raced back into the foliage from the way she came. Anna smiled tiredly at the two before chasing after Molly.

"I should be getting back," Dean stated looking at the falling sun. As much as wanted to spend time with Cas he didn't want Sammy to worry either.

Cas nodded, lacing his fingers with Dean's as they started walking. It was moments like this that Dean liked the most. When he could be alone with Cas and they could do normal relationship things, like walking and holding hands. He hadn't realized three years ago when they had first mated how hard this was going to be. Since Cas was an angel nobody, besides Sam, could know about him. That meant Dean could only see him when he was in the woods. At first Dean had extra time "hunting" alone in the woods and sneaking out at night to see his mate, but eventually John caught on. He started making a few suspicious comments and asking questions about Dean's activities, so their time together had to be cut down.

At least Sammy wasn't a problem. He already knew about the angels and he took the news of Cas and Dean becoming a thing relatively well. But Dean still longed to go out in public with Cas, let the whole world know he loved this angel so much. An idea hit him so hard he stopped dead in his tracks.

"Dean? You okay?"

"Uh, yeah I'm good, but Cas have you ever realized we've been together for three years now and we haven't ever been on a real date?"

Cas cocked his head, giving Dean is signature confused face. "Date?" He asked.

Dean had forgotten most angels chose mate by instinct or chance so the human process of dating wasn't necessary. "It's when two people who like each other go out and do things together so they can get to know each other better."

"That seems like a waste of time," Castiel concluded.

Dean laughed, "Most of the time it is, but I'd still like to go on one with you."

Cas though about it far a moment, he'd never let the safety of the forest before and his human contact was limited to Dean and Sam. The idea of being around a lot of humans and other creatures scared him. He had heard Lucifer's storied about a life owned by a demon and he most certainly did not want that to happen to him. But not all humans could be bad right? There's Dean and Sam and Cas had heard them tell stories about their friends and family. Surely it couldn't be that bad.

"Okay, but if we did what would we do about my wings and where would we go?"

A smile cracked over Dean's features. "We would go to the carnival that's coming into town. The traveling group that puts it on comes every year and tons of people from surrounding villages come so nobody will question you. And your wings, um, we could bind them? You put them flat against your back and I'll wrap them against you with fabric if you put a shirt no one will see and we'll put a coat on you for good measure."

"Alright, I will go to the carnival with you, Dean Winchester."

Maybe a date wouldn't be so bad.


	14. The Date

Castiel felt his wings twitch nervously on his back. He stood next to a tree at the edge of the forest hidden waiting for Dean. It had been a week and a half since he had accepted Dean's invitation to go on a date with him. He was beginning to regret his decision. It wasn't so much being with Dean that worried him (they'd been mated for three years after all, there wasn't much he  _hadn't_  done with Dean), he was just worried about other humans. This past week, late at night when he couldn't sleep he kept hearing Lucifer's stories echo through his skull. His horror stories about growing up in Lilith's house. The things he had been force to do, the acts he'd hand to preform scared him shitless. Castiel pulled the fingernail he had been chewing out of his mouth as he smelt Dean's approaching scent. He plastered a smile on his face and wiped his fingers on his shredded paints, trying not to look anxious for Dean.

"Heya Cas," Dean slated, it was their usual greeting. He pulled his pack off his shoulder, letting it thump on the ground.

"So today's the day," Cas said nervously.

Dean nodded pulling a pair of worn pants out of his bag. "Yep, and I got everything." Dean handed Cas the pants.

Castiel obediently took them. He knew his own trousers were ripped and torn far too much to pass as normal among humans. He stripped down and traded clothing right in front of Dean, neither bothered with modesty; they'd already seen each other anyway. The pants felt foreign and strange to Castiel. They came all the way to just above his ankles, unlike his other pants that shredded just above the knee. They also felt stiffer and smelt different.

It took Castiel a moment to recognize the scent, it was Sam's. That was understandable though, Sam was fourteen and beginning to go through adolescence. His body was lanky and thin due to the changes and lack of food. Sam's figure was more similar to Castiel than Dean's. Dean's body was broad and full, despite his slight malnourishment. But that was one of the things Cas liked the most about his mate, being able to curl up in Dean's arms. Castiel's back pressed against Dean's chest.

Once Castiel had finally gotten his feet through the pant legs and Dean had helped him button the waist band, Dean pulled several long strips of fabric out of his bag. This was the part Castiel had been dreading. According to Michael, the process of having your wings bound wasn't painful, but after a few hours they began to ache under the restraint.

"Um," Dean started.

Cas folded his wings tightly on his back, following Dean's unspoken request. Dean nodded his thanks.

"Do you think I should start at the top or bottom?"

Castiel thought about it for a moment, the thought hadn't crossed his mind. "The top I guess; up by my shoulders."

Dean tentative put the beginning of the strip on Castiel's chest and Cas moved this arms up over his head so Dean could move around to his back. Dean held the strip to Cas's chest as he circled Castiel's body, tying the wings down. He repeated the motion several more time before removing his hand, and kept repeating it until the strip ran out. Dean grabbed another; he tucked the end into one of the previous strip's layers and started wrapping it around his torso like before. He repeated this process until he ran out of fabric and Castiel's wings were wrapped top to bottom several layers thick against his back. They were almost flat, but there was a noticeable hump across his shoulder blades. That was where the most muscled part of his wings were folded up, so it made since. But what was more worrying was the slight curve of the top of Castiel's wings peaking just over his shoulders.

Castiel watched as Dean pulled a thick, stained, white shirt out of his bag and handed it to Cas to put on. He slipped both arms through it and stumbled with the buttons up his chest. Dean ended up have to help him; Castiel was awful and rather incompetent when it came to putting on clothing. When they finished Dean stood back and looked Cas over again. The hump on his back had disappeared in the bagginess of Dean's too big shirt, but the small crests of wing tips were still visible by his shoulders. Dean pulled the last clothing item out of his bag, hopping it would do the trick. It was a tan trench coat he had borrowed from Charlie.

Castiel jerked back as Dean handed him the coat. "Who's is this?" He asked. The coat didn't smell like either of the Winchester boys or their father. (Sometimes Castiel could catch a whiff of him if the boys had just hugged their father before they left the house.)

"It's my friend Charlie's, you remember her? I've told you about her before," Dean reassured, coaxing the coat on to Castiel.

Castiel recalled brief snippets of conversation detailing a red head and her friendship with the Winchesters. Cas inhaled deeply trying to calm himself as he and Dean walked out to the shelter of his woodland home. His nose was assaulted by strong scents radiating off his clothing. It was nauseating, three different clothing items giving off three abnormal smells. It was making his head spin, plus having his wings bound was doing him no favors either. His balance was thrown off because his wings were not in their normal place.

"Hey, it's gonna be okay," Dean said taking Castiel's arm to steady him.

They were now entering Dean's village. The noises and smells of so many new people and things jabbed themselves at Castiel's senses. Some of them were pleasant and smelt of the comforting scent of the woods. But most of them were artificial. It was frightening how many unnatural things there were in Dean's world.

"It's just… a lot to take in," Castiel struggled to find the right words.

"Well just take my hand and hold on tight." Dean laced their fingers together and led Castiel through the busy town.

Dean and Cas wove in between people and building to bypass town square, Dean could tell Cas was stuggling and it's best not to make it worse. Even though the village Dean lived in was very small and deep in the mountains, it was a central point in a little network of other villages. Travelers pasted though these street in heavy and constant traffic, which is how most shops and stores made their business. With all these travelers, it seemed rather logical that the traveling carnival troop always stop here every few years on their normal circuit. There was enough regular traffic flowing through here to support them, as well as the village natives and others from surrounding villages that flocked to the entertainment.

Castiel felt like he was drowning in the flurry of motion and constant presence of humans surrounding him. His life in the forest had been rather solitary, with only the other members of his flock and the Winchesters as company. Castiel felt as though all eyes were on him, interrogating his body. As if they were trying to discern him as not like them, not human. Lucifer's smooth words filled his ears,  _"They're vicious creatures Castiel. The Winchesters may be different, but humans can smell fear."_

Castiel looked over to Dean. He was smiling and very comfortable in his surroundings. With much difficulty, Castiel readjusted his wings under their bindings, so they lay even flatter and faked a smile. If Dean could be relaxed, he could too. Castiel trusted Dean.

"Dean!" A honey sweet voice called from behind the two.

Castiel nearly jumped out of his skin as Dean causally turned on his heels to face the voice. "Jess, how have you been?"

Castiel eyed the girl cautiously. Obviously Dean knew her and liked her, considering how calm he still was. And she didn't look like a threat either. With kind blue eyes and a soft mouth with golden hair cascading down her back and bits of flowers stuck in it (a hair style Castiel would have to remember to show Molly). She had on a faded red dress that made her skin glow a rosy color. The girl's name, Jess, triggered a slight memory in his mind; a hazy conversation between Sam and Dean that didn't make sense to Cas.

"Good, Sam's taking me to the carnival."

"Really, now? Cas and I were just heading that way a well. Oh by the way, Jess, this is my friend Castiel, Cas this is Jess; Sam's special friend."

"Like us?" Cas looked Jess over once more, she would defiantly make a good mate for Sam.

Jess gave Cas her most inquisitive face while Dean allowed a smug grim to form on his lips. "No, Cas it's a little different type of friendship for them."

Castiel smiled still confused with the many types of friendships humans apparently had. Jess returned his gesture, obviously a bit puzzled like Castiel.

"Hey Jess, there you are-" Sam approached the three placing a hand on Jess's shoulder. He froze as soon as he laid eyes on Cas.

"Sam!" Jess squealed wrapping her arms around him in a hug. "I was just going to ask Dean where you were, but now you're here. Can we go to the carnival now?"

"Yeah, sure. Jess, why don't you go look at some of the games for a moment? I need a word with my brother."

Jess nodded and pecked Sam's cheek before dashing off to the nearest booth. Sam waited until he was sure Jess was out of ear shot and had her back turned before the took Dean's arm at dragged him to the side of the road; Cas following by default. Dean put up at bit of a fight, but only because he didn't like being man handled by his little brother.

"I know you mentioned taking Cas on a date but are you sure bringing him here was the best idea? His people skills are zero to none." Sam breathed in hushed tones.

"Look Sammy, his wings are covered good and there are so many other people here no one will notice one odd duck."

"I can hear you two you know," Cas chimed in. "and I think I can manage. If Dean has confidence in me them I have it in myself."

Cas pried Dean out of Sam grip and the two boys walked closer to the road.

"I guess you heard him Sammy." He once again intertwined his fingers with Cas's. "What do you say we go on that date now?"


	15. The Carnival

The carnival troop always set themselves up in the same spot every year they came; a flat meadow right next to the road and just outside of town. As Dean could just see the once-bright-but-now-faded colors the multiple tents it brought back many fond childhood memories. Lovely spring day like today with Sammy and his mother watching shows under the big top or eating popcorn with while watching his father win a game. But it had been a long time now since those memories had happened. Neither he nor Sam had come here the past five year for anything more than scrounging for leftover food. But right now he was here with Cas and he was determined to make this a good first date.

"Where do you want to go first?" Dean asked.

Castiel had a wide eyed stare at the sight before him. There were five tents, varying in size and striped in different colors set out in a semicircle in front of him. In between each of the tents were a handful of small carts selling food that made Castiel mouth water. Inside the half circle was a plethora of much small tents and other stands. He looked more closely at the cluster of stands. It had a counter set out with bottles stacked on top of each other and people were throwing balls at the stacks.

Cas points at the booth, "There," He said intrigued at the thing.

They walk over and Castiel continued to stare at the players. Everything seemed to start with one person handing the man behind the booth a coin, then the man handed them two balls and they threw them at the bottles. If they knocked down all the bottles the man gave them a prize, if not sometimes they'd give him another coin and the process repeated or they'd walk way.

"It's a game," Dean explained. "You get two tries to knock them down. You wanna play?"

Castiel shook his head "no", he was content to just watch others play. And that's exactly what the two did for a while; they walk around and watched people play games. Castiel marveled at the different games. There was one where you had to throw rings on to the necks of bottles and one in which the player threw darts at a bull's-eye. Dean even played one of the games. It required him to short arrows at targets. He ended up hitting half of them and won a bracelet made of leather cords woven together. He put it on Cas's wrists and planted a kiss on his cheek, making Cas blush a rosy red.

"How about some food?" Dean asked feeling his stomach rumble.

Dean and Cas looked at the different food stalls, trying to find something Castiel would like. He was used to rough, natural foods he found himself, so much of the greasy carnival food didn't appeal to him. They ended up settling on a slice of pizza and plain fries. Cas took one bit of the pizza and gagged at the strange food, but he was fond of the fries; he loved the salt that coated them. Dean was okay with that, he let Castiel have the fires and he ate the pizza.

"Step right up folks, step right up!" A man on a box called. "See the famous oracle Chuck! Have your palms read and know the future before it happens! Enter His tent of mystery and magic if you dare!" The man pointed at the smallest tent in the semi-circle, it was purple and white striped.

Dean noticed Castiel staring, "Do you want to go see the oracle?" he asked jokingly.

Castiel nodded sharply still looking at the tent. Dean swallowed the rest of his food before they headed over to the tent. The "oracle" Chuck was a kinda-sorta-friend to Dean. The troop that rotated through here stayed almost the same every year, and Chuck had been with them for eight years now. He and Dean had talked a lot a few years back when Chuck ran one of the game booths, only recently had he been promote to oracle. Outside of Chuck's tent there was a girl standing at the entrance, she appeared to be a few years older than Dean. She looked like she was a bouncer; collecting admission before people were allowed in the tent.

"How much?" Dean asked, digging around in his pocket.

"Dean?" the girl asked.

Dean stared hard at her face trying to remember how she'd know his name. Brown hair, brown eyes, with the carnival troop…

"Shit- Meg." Dean tried to sound pleasant.

Her lips split into a smile that revealed her white teeth. "Nice to see you again and good to know you're paying this time."

Last time the carnival had come around Meg had thrown Dean out after she had caught Dean stealing leftover food out of the trash. She was one of the demons that worked as hired muscle for the carnival.

"Look I don't want trouble-" Dean started.

"You mean you don't want your ass kicked again?" Meg said with false sweetness.

"How much is it to see Chuck?" Dean growled. All he wanted to do was get in that tent and away from Meg.

"Three coins for you, sweet thing." She looked Castiel up and down, as if looking for something. A knowing smirk tugged at the corner of her lips when her eyes settled back on his face.

Dean fished six out of his pocket, "For me and him," Dean nodded at Castiel. "Come on, let's go Cas." Dean grabbed Cas's wrist and dragged him into the tent.

"Bye, bye Clarence, hope to see you around," Meg said in a sing-song voice as they disappeared.

Inside the tent the light was dim and it smelt heavily of incense. There was a small table set up in the middle of the room with four chairs; one of them was already occupied by a man. Dean lead Cas to the table and helped him sit in one of the chairs. Dean sat next to Cas and looked across the table at Chuck. His face was partially illuminated by the candles that sat in the center of the table. His face was thin and worn with a bit of light stubble dotting his cheeks and jaw.

"Chuck? It's Dean,"

"Winchester, it's nice to see you. I was wondering if you were going to come this year. I saw you're brother earlier. He was with a pretty blond thing. What was her name, Jess?"

"Yeah, yeah that's his girlfriend." Dean caught Cas fidget awkwardly in his cair. "Hey, this is my friend Cas."

Chuck extended his arm over the table, "Nice to meet you Cas," they shook hands. "Now I know you didn't pay just to say hi, so which one of you is getting their fortune read first?" Chuck asked.

Dean looked over at Cas, motioning he could go first. Dean wasn't much into this kind of stuff. He had known Cuck before he had become this mystical "oracle" and there was nothing magic about him then. Chuck was just playing the part. But since Cas had wanted to come he did his best to play along as well.

Chuck pulled out a deck of tarot card and placed all of them face down on the table in front of Cas. "Pick three," He instructed.

Castiel looked over all the cards carefully before he grabbed the three closest to him. He handed them to Chuck and he look over the cards in his hand. He laid them out on the table explaining their meaning.

"You drew The Fool, Temperance, and The Star. The Fool symbolizes the beginning of something, usually a relationship or a journey. Temperance is to rebuild, to take what has been wiped away and replace it with something stronger. And The Star is a guide, as soon as you think you have lost your way, it will lead you back to the right path. So maybe the journey The Fool has suggested you are about to take will destroy you, but you will be rebuilt by Temperance and lead to salvation by The Star."

Cas cocked his head sideways: confused and trying to absorb all of this sudden, new information. Dean was failing at stifling laughter towards Castiel's reaction. He managed to play it off as a coughing fit and a smile while Chuck collected and reshuffled the cards.

"So what do you say Dean, tarot cards, energy crystals, burn a bone, palm reading? What do you want?"

Cas looked eagerly over at Dean, enthralled at the idea of fortune telling. Just to humor him, Dean stretched out his decision making time; rubbing his chin, really thinking it over.

"Well Chuck, I think I'm gonna have to go with the palm reading option."

"Great, easier on me. Okay, I need your dominate hand."

Dean pulled his right him up out of his lap and laid it on the table. Chuck gently picked it up with his own hands and began examining it. He wiped smudges of dirt out of Dean's palm, with blunt nails traced the creases in the calloused flesh, and carefully bent Dean's fingers back and forth creating more and less wrinkles.

"What's the prognosis, Chuck?" Deans asked after an appropriate amount of time had passed.

"Well this line here," he traced a well-defined line curving around the meat of Dean's thumb, "is your life line. It's in a nice semicircle which is good. It means you have strength. And this line," Chuck traced another crease that stemmed off the life line, "that's the head line. It's a bit short on you. That's not bad though. It just means you prefer physical achievements to intellectual ones."

"Not wrong there," Dean scoffed.

Chuck laughed along with him, "Alright, this last one it the Fate line," He drew his fingers over a deep fold in the center of Dean's palm that crossed from the base of his thumb almost all the way up to his knuckles. "It's telling me your life is strongly controlled by fate and your fate is tired to that of your family and friends."

"Wow," Cas breathed out. "How can you tell all of that?" he had directed the question at Chuck.

Castiel grabbed Dean's hand from Chuck's grip and began tracing his fingers over the lines. Dean let Cas explore his hand, a smile on his face.

"That's a classified secret, but if you come back next year I just might tell you." Chuck said with a wink.

Dean stood from his chair, knowing his queue to leave. He help Cas to his feet as well, the poor angel still had his eyes locked on Dean's hand. He lead both of them to the exit.

"Bye Chuck, see you next time." Dean called, holding the tent flap open for Cas with his free hand.

"Come back and see me Winchester!" Dean heard as he walked into the blinding afternoon sun.


	16. Captured

On Dean's top ten list of favorite things to do with Castiel, watching him throw up didn't quite make the count down. Dean lightly patted Cas's back as he was hunched over tossing that afternoon's stomach contents. The two were standing outside the semicircle of carnival action, behind one of the larger red and white tents. Cas began sucking on large gulps of air when he finally finished. Dean rubbed small circles over the top of his wings to sooth him and gave Cas his water skin to wash the taste out of his mouth.

"That was awful," Cas moaned.

"I know, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have let you eat all of that food." Dean hadn't been paying attention to the carnival food he'd let Cas eat. It was all much more greasy and rich than Castiel's stomach was used to. That's probably why his body had rejected it. "well Cas I think it might be time to start heading home."

"No please, I didn't mean to ruin the evening."

"Hey, it's okay," Dean took Cas's hand in his own. "I had fun today. But I'm getting tired too. I'll walk you home?"

Castiel smiled, "Okay."

The two turned their back's to the artificially bright tents and started walking towards the forest. Dean had debated taking Cas back through town like his had on the way there, but decided against it. Sure, walking through town was much quicker and the road was smooth and easy to walk on but he didn't want Cas attracting too much attention. He'd noticed Cas's quarks had been catching the eyes of most than a few people at the Carnival. The less people who noticed Cas the better, the last thing he wanted was for his boyfriend to be found out. So through the woods it was.

Castiel didn't mind in the least. Yes, it was nice to be in town with Dean; to see him with other humans so happy. But the horrors Lucifer and Gabriel had told made him wary. He was willing to deal with the anxiety for Dean but he would trade a few peaceful moments in the forest with Dean for a month in the human town.

The whole walk was on a gradual incline. In fact Dean's whole village was seated slightly up hill. It was shaped around the main street flowing down the mountain with a sparse scattering of homes and shops at the top and a rolling flood of them at the bottom. The Winchester's house was on the upper, outer skirts of town. Most of the forest up the mountain from their house was inhabited. Only animals, monsters, and the occasional angel lived there.

It was for this reason Dean made Castiel wait until they were a good ways past his home to allow Cas to remove his clothes and the fabric binding his wings.

"Damn that's a hike," Dean huffed at Castiel threw his trench coat to the ground.

"I still don't see how you manage without wings," Cas mumbled unbuttoning his shirt.

"I still don't see how you manage to walk around half naked and not freeze."

"Clothes are scratchy." He responded.

The soft  _thump_ of a heavy dress shirt hitting the dirt signaled Cas was done with that article of clothing. Dean looked over to see Cas's chest and back were still covered by his bindings. He was uselessly pawing at them in a futile attempt to get them off.

"How about I make you a deal? You keep those bound a little longer and I'll drop a few articles of clothing?" Dean's mouth was twisted into a smirk when Cas looked over at him.

"I don't think that would be such a good idea," a deep voice called from the foliage to the left of them.

Both Dean a Castiel took a fighting stance as a rush of snapping twigs and crunching leaves thundered towards them. Out of the brush came the wild child, Molly. Her mouth was stained with berry juice and her knotted hair was falling in her face. Dean and Cas softened at the sight of her, but only a moment too soon. When Molly was five feet from Dean she leapt into the air and half glided half crashed into him. She clung tight to his torso, wrapping her little legs around his stomach and her chubby-child arms around his neck. Caught off guard and muscles weakened from his previous hike up hill, Dean stumbled back and landed butt first, on the ground.

"I fly too!" She cried gleefully, flapping her wings so hard a handful of downy feathers came loose. Dean could feel her weight lessen ever so slightly as she tried to lift herself up.

"That's… good," Dean choked out, recovering from having the wind knocked out of him.

Molly unseated herself from Dean chest and ran over to Castiel. She wrapped her arms around his leg, effectively latching onto his person. "See? See?" She asked.

"Need some help?"

A hand appeared in front of Dean as he struggle to sit up. He looked up to see the hand connected to Lucifer. He took it and barely had to put forth effort getting up, Lucifer's strong grip did all the work.

"We've been looking for you all day. Molly was determined to show you, Castiel, that she could fly now." Lucifer stated, he gave a wink like there was an inside joke between them.

"See? See? Teach me! Teach me!" She giggled.

"Ok, lesson one," Castiel detached her from his leg and held her in his arm out in front of him, "try to stay in the air."

He threw her small form into the air. Dean's jaw dropped. Out of instinct, Molly's wings flew open to their full span. The fading rays of afternoon sun filtered through her wings making them glow a ruby shade of wine as they scrambled to beat fast enough. She managed to hang in the air long enough for Dean to realize he was holding his breath. She gracelessly fell shrieking, into Castiel's waiting arms.

"How was that?" He asked.

"Not… ready… to… fly," she managed.

"You see little one," Lucifer said taking her into his arms and cradling her like a baby, "it's because your wings aren't big enough. If you wait a few more year's they'll be big like mine."

He unfurled his wings to full span. Molly's eyes widened. She reached out a plump hand to stroke some of the closest feathers. Her fingers lingered lovingly over each tip. She moved her hand to her own back to stroke her feathers. She could feel the difference. Lucifer's feathers were courser and more tightly knit together. Her's were loose and satiny soft.

"Promise?" She asked with big eyes.

"Promise."

Aside, where Molly couldn't hear Dean said to Cas, "Okay, that was cute and all but did you really need to scare the shit out of her?"

Cas laughed, "Every single fledgling ever has wanted to fly before they are ready. The best way to teach them they're not ready is to show them."

"Cas, did someone do that to you when you were little?"

Cas cocked his head to the side giving Dean a mischievous grin.

Before Castiel could answer a blinding white flash exploded ten feet to the left of Dean. The force of the explosion knocked him off his feet. He flew into Castiel, making them both fall to the ground. Dazed, Dean lifted his head off of Castiel's chest. The whole world was acutely fuzzy. The sharp edge where one object stopped and the other began was gone. Dean barely noticed the change though. His brain was scrambled by the deafening white noise ringing in his ears. Dumbly he looked down at Cas who was knocked out cold. Even though his haze Dean was conscious enough to check for bleeding. He found none. It must have just been the impact that stunned him. Slowly, like honey rolling thickly down an incline, Dean remembered Lucifer and Molly were around too. He tore his gaze away from his mate to look for him.

What he saw should have shocked him.

Surrounding them were ten or twenty men. Or maybe it was five. Dean couldn't tell. They were all moving so fast it made his head hurt when he tried to count. A few paces away from him he watched, his hearing still muted, as one of them men scooped Molly's weeping form off the forest floor. He tried to dart into the denser foliage to escape, but Lucifer slapped a firm hand on his back. With brute strength and rage Lucifer ripped the man's arms off causing Molly to fall the the ground.

 _How is he up and fighting?_  Dean managed to wander through the morphine like befuddlement in his brain.

Another one to the men came rushing at Lucifer and Molly. This one had a knife. He didn't get a chance to use it. Lucifer reached out a hand and laid it on the man's head. A silent scream escaped his lips as a cloud of black smoke rushed from his mouth.

 _Demons_ , Dean moaned internally.

The lifeless body landed on the ground.

_This was his fault._

Lucifer picked up the knife from the hand of the limp body.

_If he hadn't been so selfish they would have never been found._

Dean was could hear Molly's screams like they she was miles away. Except she wasn't.

_They found Castiel when Dean took him the the carnival._

Hugging Molly tight Lucifer darted into the brush. Along the way he stabbed another demon that got in his way.

_All his fault._

The last thing Dean remembered was a bag being slipped over his head before a pin prick assaulted his neck.

Everything

Else

Went

Black.


	17. Penthouse Prison

"So when do I get my share?" Meg asked angrily.

She had her arms crossed over her chest and all of her body language and facial expressions read pissy. The combination of Meg's leather jacket, that face, body language, and demon status would send pretty much any human running. But Danielle wasn't a human. She was a demon just like Meg. And she had been tracking these angels for eight months now and they had finally caught one. She was the one who had stuck her neck out the get Crowley to act on a capture plan. She would be damned to hell again if this prissy little carnival demon bitch was getting any credit for catching the angel. All she had done was tip a few of Danielle's in town spies that one of them was alone. That didn't even qualify for a thank you! Needless some sort of reward she was demanding.

"The Governor has many urgent matters to attend to and it is not my job to reward you. Besides, we only captured one angel. Thanks to your tip, my men acted prematurely. Had they stuck to the plan I had laid out we would have gotten all of the desired subjects at once. Now since they're spooked they've hidden so deep in the woods we're no longer able to track them." Danielle was about to rip Meg's throat out. Of all things Meg had now started tapping her foot.

"Yeah fine what ever, that's your problem. Now what I want is my money."

Danielle pushed her glasses further up the bridge of her nose. Do not snap. Do not snap. Do not snap. This was a professional work place and Mr. Crowley expected professionals from all his employees.

"Kiren, Mason will you escort Ms. Masters out of the building? I have a meeting with the Governor in 10 minutes. Ms. Masters if you still have questions I would suggest calling the front desk and scheduling an appointment with a person of appropate authorization for what your asking. Possibly Mr. Crowley's accountant or banker?" she tried to keep her voice even and calm.

Danielle physically felt her stress level go down as Kiren and Mason each grabbed hold of one of her arms. The two towering men forcefully escorted the petite woman down the hall and around the corner out of Danielle's sight.

Danielle readjusted her glasses one more time before pressing the button for the elevator. When the doors opened she stepped in pressed the button for level 9. The doors closed and the elevator slowly began to move upwards, increasing the force of gravity. She checked the clip board in her arms to make sure she had all of the necessary papers. She rearranged them one last time so they would be in the most convent order.

She was not nervous.

Her had nothing to be worried about. Right?

Before she could answer her own question the elevator dinged, signaling she was at her floor. Taking one last deep breath, Danielle stepped out of the elevator to go debrief Mr. Crowley on the angel mission.

...

"One, of them? you got me one of them? Donna I asked for three." Crowley spat.

Through the entirety of this bumbling idiot's presentation he had been bored out of his mind. She went through the ups and the downs, ins and outs, good and bad of their recent mission. Their recent failed mission. And now she had the audacity to tell him how this could be blessing in disguise.

"Oh, um Mr. Crowley... It wasn't my fault... there was a carnival demon, she sabotaged the whole thing... we still got one... and we got his mate-" Danielle sputtered. She knew she was screwed from the moment she got off that elevator. And Crowley had called her Donna! He only calls people by wrong names when he's royally pissed.

"No ifs, ands, buts, or excuses! I wanted three and you got me one! Along with his lousy human mate! Now since you have proven you are no longer capable of doing your job you're to be replaced. And your punishment will take place back in hell. Kiren, Mason why don't you help Donna here find her way back to hell?"

Crowley sat back in his plush leather chair as the burly men dragged her out of the room. She went kicking and screaming. God, he hated the demons who were childish enough to do that. You fucked up, now take your punishment like an adult. He reached over to the side table next to him and grabbed the half full glass of bourbon. In one fluid motion he tossed it back and savored the sting of the sweet alcohol run down his throat.

"Kevin," He raised his glass, summoning the boy to refill it.

Kevin swiftly unstuck himself from the corner he had been hiding. He hurried across the room to grab to fine crystal grass from his master's hands. He walked over to the alcohol tray located on a near wall. Crowley studied the boy and his actions. His gait was still a bit wobbly and warped from the punishment he had received three days ago for spilling Crowley's liquor. Crowley noted the way Kevin's hands shook as he poured the bourbon from the decanter holding it with two hands. Crowley smirked at that. The boy had learned his lesson; Kevin wouldn't be spilling his drinks any time soon. Kevin finished pouring and put the container back in its proper place. He brought the crystal glass back to Crowley.

"Thank you Kevin," Crowley said with a sarcastic tone.

Crowley could practically see the nervous energy surrounding the boys as he bowed his head in respect and scampered back to his corner. Crowley chuckled at the boy's deminer. He is definitely one of the best servants I have ever bought, Crowley thought as he sipped his new drink. The boy's mother had been in debt so deep to him she sold her son to pay some of it off. Kevin had started as an errand boy, running from different parts of building delivering documents, getting coffee, and making copies. And like all roads lead to Rome, all errand boys eventually meet Crowley. Kevin wasn't any different, it took three months before he finally was sent to the penthouse office for Crowley to sign a document. But there was something different about Kevin. He seemed to know things.

"Boy, do you know what this is about?" He had asked.

Meek and quiet as he was, kevin had responded, "Yes sir my mother taught me to read."

"No boy, what it's about. It's about taxes. Do you know what those are?" Crowley probed further.

"Yes sir, people pay them to their Demon Lord. They pay for our protection, roads, schools, and government," Kevin muttered.

After that Crowley knew Kevin was special. Most humans rarely had any concept of what taxes were for! And now here was this child, who was only seven at the time, who completely grasped the concept. It didn't matter if he learned it from eavesdropping, the boy was smart and Crowley wanted him.

"Boy, what your name?"

"Kevin sir," he had croaked.

Crowley snapped out of his reverie. Kevin was still cowering in the corner. It had been about ten year from that day. Ten years Kevin had been Crowley's personal servant. Ten years and the boy still knew things. He had always been exceedingly helpful to Crowley in all aspects. He was malleable, learned fast, and would to do anything to survive.

"Kevin, we have some new guests down the hall. I'm sure you noticed, but I'm going to talk to them later and I you're to come with me."

Kevin swallowed heavily, "Yes Mr. Crowley."

...

When Castiel awoke, his back was on fire. He was laying on his belly up on something squishy. He tried to roll so he laid on his stomach but the throbbing in his skull immobilized him completely. He groaned slightly and the noise vibrated through his brain at such a painful extent he immediately stopped. Unable to move and mute Castiel was running out of options. He cracked his eyes to examine his surroundings. He was in a room, dim with only a shred of light to illuminate it. This was the first time Castiel had ever been in a proper room. It seemed... cold and restricting. The walls surrounding him were pale and the flooring was a light honey color. A defiant contrast to the earthy tones and open space of the forest clearings he was used to. The light of the room was provided by a small device attached to a wall. It looked like a tiny bulb with a fire glowing inside.

After having been conscious for a little while and the throbbing against his skull subsided a bit, Cas once again tried to flip on to his stomach. Slowly and almost passing out, he did it. He laid face down on the squishy thing. Mat- matt- mistrust- mattress! That's what Michael had called them once. The squishy, comfy thing humans slept on. And the white cloth covering it were sheets. Castiel was so proud of himself for remembering his search the room for other objects he knew. He lifted his head and rotated it so the other cheek was pressed to the mattress and now he could see the room better. He scoured the room and found that, directly across from him, there was another bed.

It looked like there was someone else in sleeping in the bed. Cas felt a bolt of fear run through him, like the gravity of the situation had finally hit him. Who was this other person? Where was Castiel? How did he get here? Why was he here? His mind ran wild until it finally found the one through that absolutely scared him to a hault.

Lucifer's stories. What Lilith did to him.

Castiel raised his wings in an immediate defensive response. But rather than free power he was used to he was met with the agonizing, fiery pain from earlier. It was so much he cried out and lifted his arms at the necessary awkward angle to examine them. He ran his fingers over his back feeling to stark absence of wings, replaced with restricting cloth. In a moment of panic Castiel had though his wings were gone but now he realized they were only still bound from when Dean had taken him to the carnival.

"Cas..." A sleepy voice called from across the room. "Cas... is that you?"

Castiel was able to breathe a sigh of relief when he recognized the voice as Dean's. It was Dean across the room in the other bed. "Dean, it's me. Are you okay?"

"My head hurts... neck is so stiff... like the joints... fused together."

Castiel could almost feel Dean's pain. Like his mate was in pain so was he. "Dean, how... how did we get here?"

"I don't remember a lot," Dean huffed. "We were meeting... Lucifer and Molly... and then there was a blinding flash... I was on the ground... oh God... I hope they got away." Dean couldn't imagine Lucifer going down without a fight. He would probably die before he'd allow anyone to take him prisoner again. But with Molly to protect there's no telling what he'd do, what he'd be willing to do.

"Dean, my wing's are still bound... Do you think it would be possible to get them free?" Castiel asked. He hated to be greedy when he knew Dean was in pain as well but his wings were becoming unbearable.

"Oh shit Cas, I'm so sorry. Hold on," Dean made his best attempt to sit up and get out of bed. Despite his best efforts he fell gracelessly from the mattress on the floor.

"Are you okay!?"

"Yeah, just hold on, and try to sit up. It will make it easier for me to take the binding off."

Lacking the necessary strength to get up and walk, Dean managed to army crawl his way across the floor to Cas. Meanwhile Cas struggled to sit up. He was already belly down on the mattress so he placed his hands on either side of his chest and did a movement that resembled a push up to get himself in an upright position. When Dean made his way over Cas helped him up to sit on the bed. Just like earlier, when Dean had put the bindings on, the process was slow, fabric strip by fabric strip. When they were all finally off Cas tentatively stretched his wings at full span. He moan in relief to finally have them free. Dean reached out and began massaging the the sore muscles on Cas's wings. Cas leaned back into Dean further enjoying the contact.

The door on the far wall swung open to bathe the room in a stack yellow light that diffused out to softer tones throughout the room. A short man in a nice suit walked into the room followed by a kid who looks to be about Dean's age.

"'Ello boys," The man said with a cat like grin.

Castiel immediately shoved Dean behind him and raised his arms and wings in a protective gesture. This only made the man smile wider.

"Oh, a bit feisty are we? You'll be a fun one, just don't cause too much trouble. Later as some motivation to stay in line you can talk to Kevin here, or Gadreel if you're still debating rebellion." The smooth Scottish accent was hypnotizing to Castiel. He had never heard anything like it before.

"Um, excuse me, but if I may ask, where are we and who are you?" Dean asked. He put a hand on Castiel's wing that was right in front of his face. He lowered the wing so he could look at the man.

"You are in my home, which will now be your new home. And don't worry Dean, I can more than provide for you and your little mate here. Just ask Kevin, I'm a gracious host." He looked expectantly at the the boy behind him, Kevin.

"Yes, Mr. Crowley is a very gracious host. He look me in when my mother was struggling-" Kevin's mumbling was cut off.

"Crowley! Crowley the Governor!?" Dean exclaimed.

"In the flesh," the Governor's cheshire cat grin returned.

"But... But I have a family! And we didn't do anything wrong! Cas was just living in the woods peacefully-"

"I dont care what you have or haven't done." Crowley's calm tone undisrupted Dean's hysterics. "I want your boyfriend because he's valuable, and I can take him because he's an animal. You on the other hand do have a family. So I bought you. I paid your father your weight in silver, which by the way, is more than you're worth."

Dean was at a lost for words. He was completely clueless as to why someone would do this. He remembered Gabriel's story of what Michael and Lucifer had to do for Lilith, but if Crowley wanted that he wouldn't have taken Dean. He could tell Castiel was thinking something similar; he was shaking.

"What do you want?" He felt his voice crack.

"Like I said, your boyfriend is valuable. Your boyfriend is part of an ancient race, older than humans, older than demons. You see, long ago, before the First Great War of humans and demons, angels were divine beings. They held power greater than demons and humans combined. Had they sided with either other one, that side would have been assured victory, but they didn't. They fought for their own team. They wanted to bring about Heaven on Earth. But the humans weren't fond of that idea because it meant the deaths of billions and the demons didn't like it because, well we're demons. So for once in history, Humans and Demons ganged up on the angels. We wore them down over time, took away most of their divinity, their Grace. But resilient as those beasts were, they refused to die. They morphed into something different. They lost most of their power, wings became visible, they gained emotions, humanity, and mortality. They became more human. A few of them mated with humans and the result is your little boy toy. He still retains a few of his ancestors abilities, flight, strength, speaking Enochian, and healing. Now as it happens, their healing abilities are actually quite pricey, a novelty to the wealthy and a life saver to the poor. I'm in the business of selling that healing."

Dean mulled over the overload of information he had just been given. Cas was a descent of a divine being? Well at least that explains all of the mysterious powers Cas seemed to have. Like the time they met on his birthday all those years ago. He and Michael had healed his ankle. And the time Sam cut his hand and Cas made it turn into a scar in less than a minute.

"So now lets get down to business," Crowley rubbed his hands together and took a few steps forwards to the pair.

Cas looked back to share a nervous look with Dean.


End file.
